


A Hundred Years Gone

by KayMayStarache



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Post-Calamity, Rating May Change, Romantic Tension, Slow Burn, They a lil confused, but they got the spirit, lots and lots of yearning, zelink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 41,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23938699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayMayStarache/pseuds/KayMayStarache
Summary: After the events of the Calamity, Zelda must regain her footing and find her place in a new Hyrule - one that has survived a century without her. With Link and other allies at her side, the task of restoring her kingdom to its former glory seems within reach. But when unexpected obstacles arise, will our pair of legendary heroes be able to push forward towards the future they so desperately wish for?
Relationships: Link & Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 170





	1. Memory

**Author's Note:**

> This story started out as just a way to finish the very last scene of Botw in my head and just kind of spiraled out of control. I sincerely have very little idea of where this story is going and where it will end up - but I do have a general idea of what I want to see happen. So sit down, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

The air stung at her face, the last remnants of Ganon’s malice floating through the wind before disappearing into the sky. The sun began to fill the sky and encase the field in a golden glow. It was over. After all this time...  
Her eyes watered, but she willed them open.  
“May I ask....”

She could feel his eyes upon her, waiting.

“Do you really remember me?”

Her eyes finally met his, and after everything she knew he could remember, after every memory found that had flooded his mind – there was only silence. It felt as though it stretched on forever with his face remaining unchanged, neutral, void of any emotion.

_What did you expect? _Zelda silently chastised herself. She lowered her gaze to hide her disappointment, until the clashing of metal to the ground intrigued her to lift her head.__

He had thrown his shield to the ground, his sword quick to follow. With his arms stretched above his head, he was removing his bow and quiver to have them join the rest of his gear in the soil. She watched with confused awe, and when he was done ... he ran.

He ran straight towards her, and nothing then could stop the tears from overflowing and streaming freely down her cheeks.

She spread her arms wide and when his body collided into hers, he lifted her off the ground so quickly she couldn’t help the laughter that burst from her lips.  
He collapsed to his knees, her arms still wrapped around his neck. Her prayer dress was still muddied and her hair still tangled - but her face was soft as he held it in his hands.

“Princess...” He breathed, barely a whisper. She smiled, and his lips rose to mirror hers.  
“Zelda...” He said, now with meaning, as he gazed at her face. He looked as though he was trying to solve a puzzle in his mind. “It’s really you” he finished, swiping his tongue across his cracked lips. The air still felt so dry.

She simply nodded, the tears welling up in her eyes once again as she placed her hands over his own where they were cradling her cheeks. His hands were calloused, and much larger than she remembered, but she found she didn’t mind as his thumbs caressed her tears away. His face had softened, and she saw more emotion in it in this one moment than she had all those 100 years ago. She felt again as though she might cry if she looked at him any longer, and so she buried herself in his chest and clung tightly to the front of his soiled tunic. He tightened his hold on her with no complaints.

“It still isn’t safe here, we need to leave” he whispered into her hair, after what seemed like ages. “If we go now, we can make it to Kakariko by tomorrow afternoon”.  
Slowly he rose to his feet, guiding her with gentle hands on her elbows to join him as he stood. She had felt boundless energy just moments before, and now it felt as though her legs had been reduced to chuchu jelly. She nodded in compliance and sniffled the last of her tears away.  
 _That’s quite enough crying for a Princess, _she thought to herself.__  
 _Is that what I am still? _  
There was hardly enough of the Castle left, and she had yet to discover what was left of Hyrule itself. It had been one hundred years, perhaps there was no need for her anymore...__

But Zelda was getting ahead of herself, and her head felt fuzzy enough as it was. She had only just registered that Link had already gathered his discarded weapons and taken her hand to guide her towards his horse. He said nothing, but gestured for her to approach the saddle and bent to assist her mount. She thanked him quietly and placed a foot in his palm, her hands reaching up to grab the worn leather of the saddle. As she pushed off the ground with her other foot, readying herself to sling her leg across Epona’s back, her vision swam. Her other foot slipped from Links hand, and she slumped over the back of his horse with a small grunt.

“Princess?!” Link questioned, his voice laced with concern. His hands had come up to catch her about the waist to keep her from slipping completely to the ground.

Zelda was mortified.

“I – I apologize. I don’t know what came over me, but – I’m quite alright. Let me try again!”

And although she could tell every instinct in his body was telling him to obey, Link refused.

“With all due respect your highness, you’re exhausted. Please, let me mount first so you can rest.”

“Nonsense!” She countered, though she could feel the weariness in her bones.  
“For one, that is hardly appropriate. And you need rest as well – it just wouldn’t be fair.”

Link crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow at her.  
When did he become so expressive? She thought. He was a far cry from the boy she knew a century before. Her once so stoic and silent knight was changed. If it weren’t for the dried blood and mud on his tunic and face she would have thought him an ordinary boy.

“You forget I’ve gone many nights with no sleep at all, Princess.” He taunted, “and I hardly think we’ll meet anyone along this road who would chastise us for not following the hundred year old royal protocol.” His lips pulled up into a sly smile.

_Well now he’s just poking fun._

“Fine.” Zelda huffed, and gestured impatiently for him to get on with it. He puffed out a laugh and shook his head, steadying himself to pull his body up and over the saddle with one swift motion.

As he settled himself, he reached a hand down to assist Zelda. She took it, and with as much grace as she could muster, allowed herself to be hoisted atop his horse – twisting so that her legs dangled over the side. Her left arm was pressed against his chest and when he picked up the reigns and spurred Epona into a slow canter, his arms encircled her. She fought to keep her eyes open, still fully aware of the position they were in and how extremely against etiquette this was. But the cool evening wind and the soft clopping sound of Epona’s hooves on the path was quickly proving to work against her efforts.

“Sleep, Zelda.” Link’s voice vibrated through his chest, low and quiet. Through the sleep fogging her mind and the heaviness of her eyelids, she just managed to recall that the last time he had called her solely by her name was a hundred years in the past, as he was dying in her arms. Sleep overtook her then, as she let her head fall against his chest and his arms support her body.

It was long past sunrise when she woke again.


	2. Kakariko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter of this story was very short, since it was never really supposed to continue on. So I'm posting the second chapter at the same time for some added entertainment. Enjoy!

The sun had been in the sky for a good while before Zelda stirred from her place on Epona’s saddle. Her hair, flattened from where it had been pressed against Link’s chest, glistened in the blazing sunlight. She roused gently from her sleep, stretching quietly and hiding a yawn behind her fist as she began to become fully aware of her surroundings once again.

They were quickly approaching the entrance to Kakariko and Epona slowed to an easy trot, since she knew the path well enough with little direction. Link took the opportunity to glance at the girl from his memories, sat in front of him and still bleary from slumber. Her cheeks were pink with warmth, and the early afternoon sun caused her to squint her emerald eyes until they were barely more than slits. It took all his self will not to wrap her in his arms again as he had in that field outside the castle, and he tightened his grip on Epona’s reigns for good measure.

No matter the feelings the memories he had recovered of her had roused within him, it was without merit to act on those feelings. At least, that’s what Link told himself. She was royalty, daughter of a king and the goddess incarnate, and he was – he was.... well he didn’t really know _what_ he was.

He knew some things. Link knew he was, as everyone so conveniently liked to remind him, the “hero of legend” – and that he was and had been the Princesses’ appointed knight and Champion. Rather, it was a matter of who he was _besides_ that that bothered him. After a hundred years in stasis, even after the collection of the memories said Princess had left behind for him, it felt as though he had lived two separate lives.

His memories were too sparse to fully recall the boy he had been before the Calamity, and that scared him most of all. He knew the man he was now – but that surely wouldn’t matter in this time, an entire century later and with the Princess of Hyrule settled snuggly against his chest. He tried to put it out of his mind, and focus on what lie ahead.

 _One step at a time._ He reminded himself.

The arches of Kakariko hovered above them, and Zelda stirred at the shadow it cast upon her face as they passed underneath and into the village. She twisted slightly and noticed Link already gazing at her, and the blush on her cheeks deepened.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to sleep so long.”

Link shook his head briskly, his eyes softening slightly as she spoke.

“No apologies needed, your highness.”

Zelda stared at him, her eyes twinkling with what looked like a mixture of confusion and awe. She shook her head softly and turned her attention away from his face, sighing quietly. There were parts of him that she knew were changed, and yet at moments like this he seemed as though he hadn’t changed at all from the first time they met. It was as though he could read her mind, and Link leaned forward slightly to speak quietly to her as they approached the center of the village.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, Princess.”

She turned her head to face him again, her brows scrunched together.

“You haven’t.”

“You seem troubled” he mused, still leaning towards her but keeping his eyes ahead.

“I suppose...” Zelda hesitated, “I am troubled by, a great deal of things at the moment.”

Link looked at her then, skimming over her face with concerned eyes. She lifted a hand and waved away his attention.

“Nothing I cannot handle.” She forced a smile, hoping it would placate him enough to drop the subject. She really rather felt as though she wouldn’t be able to tell him how she truly felt on the matter of his changed personality, or really how she could even make sense of it to herself.

He had already gone through so much, it would be unkind for her to tell him she barely recognized the person he had become.

In truth, she should not have been so disappointed as she was. She scolded herself inwardly for hoping that he would remain unchanged and their relationship intact after all the trials he had faced.

She was still lost in thought when Epona suddenly came to a stop, and Link hopped off the saddle. He quickly untied his pack from the back of her saddle and handed it to a man in Sheikah armor, nodding his thanks.

Wordlessly, he turned and lifted his arms towards her in an offering. Zelda blinked, feeling her cheeks grow warm, and reached down to place her hands on his shoulders for support as he lifted her from the horse by her waist. He placed her gently on the ground, removing his hands and bowing his head slightly. When he lifted his eyes to meet hers, they sparkled with mischief and her heart began to race in her chest. He inclined his head towards the towering set of stairs before them, holding out a hand.

“Shall we? I’m sure Lady Impa is growing impatient to see you.”

_Impa._

“Impa?” She repeated, her eyes locked on his face. A small smile was beginning to crease his features. “Lady Impa – is inside?”

He simply nodded, his hand still outstretched towards her. She couldn’t help the smile that began to blossom on her own face, and she took his hand gratefully as they began to climb the steps of the small palace. When they reached the doors, A young Sheikah woman was there waiting for them. She was very beautiful, Zelda thought, and extremely timid it seemed – as she clasped her hands close to her chest when they approached.

“M-Master Link! You’ve returned!” She gasped, her cheeks tinting pink.

Link simply bowed his head, still holding firm to Zelda’s hand.

“Hello Paya” He chuckled, “Is your grandmother available?”

“Oh yes!” The girl – Paya – Zelda reminded herself, covered her cheeks with her hands. “She has been waiting for you.”

It was then that her brown eyes met Zelda’s face, and she nearly shrieked with embarrassment.

“F-Forgive me! I’m being so rude! My name is Paya, your majesty!”

Zelda gave her a warm smile, briefly noticing that Link’s shoulders were shaking with barely contained laughter, and she cast him a brief chastising look before extending her hand towards the trembling girl in front of her.

“A pleasure to meet you Paya.”

Paya had grasped her hand in return, and paled at the sound of her voice.

“The p-pleasure is all mine your highness! Truly, it is an honor to f-finally meet you! I have heard so much about you! When I was a little girl my grandmother would tell me stories of-“

“Paya, I would hate to keep Lady Impa waiting” Link interjected, placing a consoling hand on the girls shoulder. Paya immediately ceased her rambling and released Zelda’s hand in an instant.

“Of course!” She shook her head and gestured towards the large doors in front of them, “Please, go in! My grandmother will be so glad to see you”.

As they walked through the entry, Zelda was immediately hit with memories from a century before. She could recall running through these very doors, at no older than fourteen years of age, as Impa sat meditating in the center of the room. She had thrown herself on the lap of her mentor, shaking with fear that would not abide.

_You must ready yourself, Zelda._ Her father had said. _You must awaken the power that has lied dormant inside you for so long. There is no time to delay, you must quit pretending at being a scholar!_

She hadn’t known what to do then, and still, all these years later – even after awakening her power, she was still just as lost.

But Impa had known. She had held Zelda’s quacking form, brushing the hair from her back and convincing the young girl that this was her destiny, and that the Goddess would not let her fail – if she had the courage to follow her heart.

It was a sentiment she had not understood then.

And so, at the sight of her mentor seated amongst a sea of pillows and withering with old age, she crumbled.

With renewed energy she freed her hand from Link’s grasp and stumbled full force into Impa’s lap, wrapping her arms around her frail waist. Impa took the impact with barely a huff, and began to snicker quietly. Her hands came up to cradle the back of Zelda’s head and neck, rubbing down her back in comforting strokes.

“Oh my child....” Impa hummed, “How happy I am to see you alive and well.”

Zelda sniffled slightly and lifted her head, soaking in the lines of the old woman’s face. Impa smiled at her, and looked beyond her to the young man still standing near the doors.

“And Master Link, how pleased I am to see you as well.” Impa remarked. Link nodded in affirmation, his eyes gleaming.

Zelda sat up in front of Impa, tucking her feet underneath her and dragging a hand across her face. It left a smear of dirt on her cheek and Impa clucked her tongue softly.

“You are positively filthy my dear.” She looked to Link, who looked even worse for wear. “And so are you! Though I’m sure there are far worse fates than dirt when it comes to facing off against the Calamity.” A large grin spread over her face as she said this, and Zelda found herself smiling back despite her weariness.

“Impa, please know how thrilled I am to see you, but we really must discuss the fate of Hyrule now that Ganon has been defeated. It is imper-“

“I won’t hear any of it until you’ve both washed up and put on a new set of clothes” Impa interrupted. “The fate of Hyrule can wait until you’ve both gotten the rest you so desperately need. Why look, your valiant knight is practically keeled over with exhaustion!”

Zelda’s head whirled around on her shoulders, and to her surprise she found Impa hadn’t been exaggerating. There Link stood, his weight propped against the door frame with his arms crossed and his eyes shut. His bangs, still caked with blood and wet soil, hung over his forehead. Zelda felt a tug at her heart at the sight of him - she had been so concerned with the future of her kingdom that she had completely disregarded the concerns of her own friend.

 _Would he still call himself my friend?_ She wondered. Another sigh escaped her – so much had changed. She turned back to Impa, a tight and guilty smile on her face.

“Yes, I suppose I must agree with you. It has been a very long journey for the both of us” Zelda conceded.

“Very good then,” Impa nodded. “Paya will escort you to the washroom, and I will have her bring you both some fresh clothes – and perhaps some dinner afterwards?”

Zelda’s stomach grumbled at the thought of food, and she clutched her stomach with an embarrassed giggle. “Please”

Impa called for Paya, and the young lady apologized profusely for waking Link upon her entrance. She guided them both upstairs and showed them the washroom, which contained two large wooden basins – and no wall to separate them. She mumbled something about gathering hot water and quickly excused herself downstairs, leaving Link and Zelda to stare blankly at the tubs in front of them.


	3. The Rites of Zhou

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter chapter - I may start updating twice a week until the chapters start to get longer.  
> Even though I'm trying to follow canon as closely as possible, I am still taking some artistic liberties for the sake of a good story. So I know, Impa's temple is definitely not as big as what is suggested by this chapter but shhh ;)  
> Thank you all so far for your kudos and kind words! Your comments are always welcome and appreciated.

* * *

Link shut his eyes in frustration. He had half a mind to stomp down the stairs and ask Impa what exactly she thought was amusing about this – but he resisted.

Zelda still hadn’t stopped staring at the basins, and was still staring when Paya returned to fill them both with steaming water. She again mumbled something about letting the water cool a bit and made to scurry out of the room again but Zelda caught her arm before she could escape.

“Wait! Paya,” she lowered her voice to a whisper “Thank you, but how are we – where do – we can’t...” Zelda couldn’t seem to form the words, and Paya stood with wide eyes trying desperately to understand.

Link sighed and rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes until he saw spots.

“Do you have a privacy screen, Paya?” He grunted, exhaustion lacing his voice.

His bones were beginning to ache, and the hot water from the tubs was already beginning to steam up the room. It was such a tempting sight that Link was nearly two seconds away from stripping naked in front of them both and immersing himself in the water, decorum be damned.

Paya blubbered out an “oh yes!” and rushed over to the side of the room to retrieve a small but ornate privacy screen, and unfolded it between the two tubs. Link thanked her and Paya bowed silently, once again fleeing the room and closing the door behind her.

Zelda turned to him, fatigue lacing her features.

“Thank you” she sighed. Walking carefully over to one of the wooden tubs and testing the water with a finger, her eyes fluttered closed.

Link did the same, moving to the tub on the opposite side of the folding screen and basking in the hot steam that coated his face as he approached. He toed off his boots and began peeling off his layers, first his tunic – damp with mud in some places and stiffened with blood in others. His trousers came next, and in taking them off he only just realized they had been torn to shreds at the knees.

 _Shame._ He thought. _I liked those._

A quick visit to Claree while they were in town seemed to be in the cards, though Link reasoned they would be stopping in to her shop regardless. Zelda’s prayer dress was beyond salvaging, and his own clothes had seen better days.

He continued on, pulling his undershirt over his head and wincing at the strain it caused his muscles. He quickly shucked off his underwear and stepped into the tub, his legs immediately collapsing with relief at the touch of steaming water. He let out an audible sigh and dunked his head briefly under the water, the heat piercing his face. When he resurfaced, pushing his bangs out of his face and releasing the rest of his hair from where it was tied up at his nape, he chanced a look towards the privacy screen and realized with dawning horror that it was practically sheer.

 _Goddesses above_ , He whimpered to himself. _She saw everything._

Try as he might, Link couldn’t peel his eyes away from the screen and the silhouette that stood behind it. To his relief, Zelda hadn’t moved since approaching the tub and still stood with her back to the screen. She hadn’t seen a thing after all, and that gave Link a short reprieve – until he realized _he_ could now see her blurred figure through the paper - thin material.

He opened his mouth to... he wasn’t sure.

Warn her?

Scream?

But it was too late, Zelda had untied her sandals and was starting to shimmy her dress down her body. The golden evening sun streamed into the room, piercing through the ivory paper screen separating them and illuminating her figure against the backdrop of cherry blossoms that decorated it.

The instant her dress hit the floor, Links eyes traveled from where it lay crumpled on the ground to the silhouette of her legs and her full hips. She had turned slightly to the side, her hair pushed over one shoulder and blocking the screen from her view and shielding him from her sight. Link caught his gaze drifting upwards, pausing over the slight dip of her waist and up to the gentle swell of her breast. He swallowed hard and screwed his eyes shut, forcing his head back forward to face the door.

He took several deep breaths as he willed the vision behind his eyelids to avoid taking on the form of what he had just seen. He heard the water splash and Zelda let out a soft breath once she was fully submerged in her own tub.

Luckily, and much to Link’s relief, the rest of their baths went by with no further incident and when the water had gotten too cold and both their hands were as wrinkled as baked apples, Paya graciously knocked on the door to tell them she had placed fresh clothes in the hallway.

Link got out first and quickly wrapped himself in a towel, thanking Paya through the door and only opening it once he heard her footsteps retreating. He picked up the stack of clothes intended for him from the hallway and turned his head slightly so that Zelda could hear him clearly, but not enough to breach her privacy.

“I’m going to change in the next room, do you want me to send for Paya to assist you when I’m finished your highness?” He inquired.

There was a minute of silence before Zelda spoke, and Link was painfully aware that he was clad in nothing but a linen towel and was still absolutely soaking wet.

“Y-Yes. Please.” Zelda replied quietly, and Link slipped out into the hallway and shut the door behind him.

The room was still relatively warm, but Zelda could feel the chill creeping into her skin as she stepped out of her tub. She quickly reached for her towel, wrapping it around her body tightly and crossing her arms across her chest. She ventured towards the door and picked up the clothes Paya had left for her off the floor, retreating back into the washroom to get changed.

They were traditional Sheikah robes, not unlike the ones Paya herself was wearing, and Zelda found herself running her hands over the fabric in reverence as she tied everything in place. Her long hair was still wet and dripping down her back, and as she tried her best to dry it with her towel Paya knocked once more.

“Come in!” Zelda answered. She smiled at the young sheikah woman when she entered, and Paya seemed to take mercy on her – crossing the room to take the towel from Zelda’s hands.

“Please your Highness, let me”.

A short time later, Zelda and Paya emerged from upstairs. Link had been seated with his legs crossed in front of Impa enjoying the easy silence, until he heard footsteps descending on the stairs. Zelda reached the landing first, clothed head to toe in Sheikah garb. Her hips were accentuated by the cinch of the belt around her robe, and her legs were slimmed by the fitted fabric of her trousers. Link’s mouth went dry and he clumsily cleared his throat as she lifted her arms out to her sides with a large grin.

“What do you think?” She beamed at him “I’ve never worn traditional Sheikah garments before. I must say, they are rather comfortable”.

Link silently nodded his agreement, his fingers tightening in his lap. Paya appeared behind her and pointed to Zelda’s head with determined pride.

“And what do you think of her hair, Master Link? I did it myself”

Half of Zelda’s hair had been twisted into two separate buns, pinned closely together at the top of her head and secured with a chopstick through them. The rest of her hair flowed freely down her back and draped across her shoulders. If it weren’t for the absence of the red sheikah eye on her forehead, Link would have thought her one of them by birth.

He smiled kindly at Paya.

“It looks beautiful. You did a fantastic job Paya” He glanced between the girls, and noticed both of them blushing slightly. He reached a hand behind his head and scratched at his neck, feeling his own cheeks heat. Impa simply rolled her eyes, and held out her hands to beckon Zelda to join them on the floor.

“Come Princess, let us eat and then we can discuss the important matters you travelled here for”

Their dinner was delicious and fulfilling – and after much groaning on account of their full stomachs, Zelda and Link sat at attention once more in front of Impa.

“Now Princess,” Impa began “The future of Hyrule, as I am sure you know, has been unsure for some time. Now that the Calamity is gone and you have returned to us, some topics must be breached”.

Zelda kept her gaze steady, and nodded for Impa to continue.

“Your father was a wise and fair King, but he had many people behind him that allowed him to be so. Ruling Hyrule is not something you can do alone.” Impa stressed, folding her hands in her lap.

“What are you suggesting?” Zelda questioned.

Impa tilted her head, the charms hanging from her wide brimmed hat jingling softly.

“A new Royal Council must be instated, and I believe that as the future Queen you should be the one to personally appoint the new members. Hyrule has gone for over a hundred years without a sovereign, and excluding myself and few other members of the Sheikah, there are slim numbers of Hylians and even members of the various other races who will remember who you are. It is up to you, and Sir Link of course, to unite everyone under the crown once again”.

There was a decisive tone in her voice, and Zelda felt weary at the thought of trying to argue against Impa’s advice.

“We should travel then, to each region and city to reinstate the monarchy and secure the presence and allegiance to the crown, yes?” Zelda quipped.

Impa’s brow creased, and she hummed quietly in affirmation.

“Precisely. But I would suggest traveling discreetly, Princess. Besides the Yiga Clan, We have yet to learn of any usurpers or traitors to the crown - but you can never be too careful.”

Zelda turned to Link, the silent question in her eyes.

_Is it worth it? Would my own people even recognize me?_

Link’s eyes only met hers for an instant before he was looking back to Impa with a determined gaze. A resolute, “I would prefer to err on the side of caution, Priestess” left his lips and with a tight expression he turned to face Zelda fully, looking to her in affirmation.

In truth, Zelda felt it all a bit silly. She had been gone a century, surely no common travelers would know who she was based solely on her appearance. But the tight- lipped expressions of both her Knight and her most trusted confidant were enough to sway her. With a curt nod towards them both, she agreed to travel under a different identity. Link smiled then, a small lift of just one corner of his mouth, but a smile none-the-less. Zelda reveled in it.

“Very well then,” Impa interjected, “I shall think traveling in your Sheikah clothes and a simple change of name will suffice in properly masking your identity for the time being. Only the leaders of the four regions need to know who you truly are for now. We can make the announcement of your official return at a later time.”

At that, Link stood and crossed the few steps separating them, offering his hand to Zelda. She took his hand tentatively and allowed herself to be pulled up off the floor.

Impa hummed once more, folding her hands in her lap and smiling softly up at the two young heroes. She bid them a good night, and promised to see them off in the morning as they headed out to Zora’s Domain.

Paya, who had been waiting close by, offered to show them to their guest chambers.

As they followed Paya back up the stairs, Zelda sighed at the thought of a nice warm bed after all this time. Thankfully, there was a room for each of them - and Link’s cheeks heated at the remembrance of what had transpired earlier in the night. After setting their beds with a fresh set of linen blankets, Paya whispered her goodnights and left them to rest.

The hallway was dimly lit with a small lantern, and Zelda could just barely make out the outline of Link’s face as they stood in front of her door.

“I suppose, this is goodnight then” She said as she shifted her weight back and forth on her feet. Link simply blinked.

“Yes, Princess”

“Zelda” she corrected. “Please. You needn’t be so formal, not with me.”

The look of slight horror that crossed Links’ face would have been comical, if Zelda were not completely at her wits end with all of his _your highness_ this and _yes princess_ that. She yearned for the familiarity they had shared a hundred years ago, and this was the first step. Besides, what good was her title when her Kingdom lay in ruins?

After his initial shock had passed it seemed, Links’ gaze softened and the half smile she so adored reappeared.

“If you insist, Zelda” he lilted, his eyes hooded with exhaustion. The action of calling her by her first name sparked something in his chest that was impossible to name. It felt as though he was going against every bone in his body, but when her name passed his lips he could not deny the joy it brought him.

But he still had a duty, he reminded himself. Formalities could not be shirked around the leaders of the four regions – and inevitably, once the council of Hyrule was established again. It would do no good to tarnish Zelda’s reputation before it had even begun. If there began even a slight suspicion that she were fraternizing with someone of his status, he would be stripped of his rank in an instant – possibly even imprisoned.

But the way she looked right now, with the flickering light of the lantern casting shadows across her fair features while she looked up at him through her eyelashes – Din save him it almost sounded worth it.

Zelda smiled, and bid him a soft goodnight once more. Link returned her sentiments, and stepped back towards his own door – content to allow Impa’s guards take over for the night and actually get some well-needed rest. As soon as Zelda disappeared behind her door, Link turned to face his own and was surprised to find the room was much cozier than he had anticipated. He had seen many Inn’s and stables during his travels, but the warm and inviting softness of Impa’s beds was unmatched. For the first time since he awoke in the shrine, Links’ slumber was dreamless.


	4. Safe Travels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to be honest and say this was my favorite chapter to write so far. And - if you've ever seen the movie Leap Year - a lot of this chapter will seem familiar to you ;) That is one of my all time favorite "guilty pleasure" movies. If you've never seen it, go watch it. Trust me.

After a brief farewell to Impa and Paya was made with promises to return soon, Link and Zelda set out on the journey to Zora’s Domain. Captain Dorian, the head of Impa’s guard, had been kind enough to lend a horse to their cause – so that Zelda may be able to ride along on her own. When she offered payment, he had kindly refused with explanations of “owing one” to her Knight. Zelda chose not to question him further, and took his favor graciously.

They had been on the trail to the Domain for only a few hours, riding side by side in companionable silence, when the sky above began to darken rapidly. Link glanced skyward, his brows furrowed with concern.

“Is everything alright?”

“I don’t like the look of those clouds up ahead” He grumbled, his concerned look now upon her. They had passed by the stable on the outskirts of Kakariko nearly two hours ago, and Link was beginning to regret letting Zelda’s high spirits get the best of him.

Zelda chanced a look up at the sky, and saw the swirling black clouds looming in the distance. She shrugged.

“I’m sure it’s just a bit of rain. How much longer must we go until we reach another stable?”

“Another couple of hours, at least”

“Let’s keep going” Zelda smiled at him, “I think we can make it before the rain hits”.

Link cast her an apprehensive look, but nodded his head none-the-less and pushed his horse into a steady canter. Zelda matched him, and they went another hour of riding in silence.

It was the deafening rumble that suddenly ripped through the sky that made her heart leap. In an instant, the sky opened up and a great rush of water poured from the heavens. Zelda shrieked, and Link reached over to place a hand on her forearm to get her to stop her horse. Lightning cracked a few hundred miles away, illuminating the sky. Electricity rippled through the air.

The rain only worsened, and Link could already feel the water soaking through the thin fabric of his lent Sheikah clothes.

“We need to get to shelter!”

“How far is the stable?!” Zelda shouted over the roar of the rain.

Link shook his head, his hair beginning to stick to his face.

“Too far. We’ll need to make for the Inn, it’s only a mile up the trial”.

“What Inn?!” Zelda questioned. She had never known there to be a village between the path to Kakariko and Zora’s Domain – but then again, she thought, a hundred years is a long time for changes.

Link tugged on his reigns and maneuvered his horse in front of hers.

“It’s a small place, easy to miss. Just follow closely and stay on the trial!”

He waited for her to acknowledge his instructions, and then spurred his horse into a steady gallop. Zelda did as she was told, and followed close behind – wiping the rain out of her eyes as they sped down the trial. With no trees overhead, there was nothing to shield them from the downpour, and she could feel the cold seeping into her bones.

Link sped down the path, looking over his shoulder every so often to make sure Zelda was still behind him. He scanned the tree line in the distance for the little house he knew was along the trial, just up ahead and hidden from sight. It was a place he had discovered purely by chance during his travels, and in this moment he was extremely grateful for his luck. He spotted the tip of the chimney in the distance, at just the right angle between two trees, and urged his horse faster. Zelda pressed on, leaning into her own steed and trailing behind him as he turned his horse off the main trial and onto an overgrown path lined with large and drooping trees. At the end, there stood a sturdy looking home covered in vines.

When they approached the end of the path, Link quickly slid off his saddle and helped Zelda dismount her own horse before untying their bags and slinging them over his back. He made sure to secure both horses to the posts underneath the shabby looking overhang at the side of the house and took Zelda’s hand to guide her to the front door. He knocked hard twice on the cherry colored wood and turned to check on Zelda. Her hair was dripping wet on her face and she was shivering slightly, but she answered his look with a small smile regardless. He gave her hand a light squeeze and tried his best to smile back.

“HO!” came a voice from the front door, “Ye poor things! Come in, come in quickly!”

The older woman who answered ushered them inside, patting their backs as they went. Zelda audibly sighed in relief. The house was warm and smelled of vanilla and lavender, and Link’s hand was still a welcome weight in her own. The house was so quiet that his voice beside her almost startled her.

“Hello again Darla, sorry for our abrupt entry”

“Oh Link!” The woman exclaimed, closing the distance between them and reaching out to place a comforting hand on Link’s forearm. “I hadna even recognized it was ye. Po’dears, you’re soppin’ wet!”

He smiled at her kindly, pushing his hair off his forehead.

“We seem to have underestimated just how fast the storm was traveling. We’re on our way to Zora’s Domain and got stuck in the downpour”

“Aye, the storms been rollin’ through here quiet off’in lately.” Darla clucked her tongue, her gaze drifting over to Zelda’s trembling form. Link followed her eyes and gently pulled Zelda forward.

“Darla this is... uh-“

“Rayna” Zelda supplied, trying her best to gain composure through her bluff as she extended a hand towards the woman. Darla grinned, her rosy cheeks pressing into her eyes and causing them to wrinkle at the corners.

“A pleasure Rayna ” she replied, taking Zelda’s hand in hers. “Ye all are en luck! I jus’ had’ta turn away two other travelers askin’ after er last room.”

Zelda tilted her head to the side in mild confusion.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Tey weren’t married! And tey hadn’t no shame ‘bout it – admitted it straight out. So, I sen’tem packin’”

A cold dread began to settle over Link’s chest. He stole a glance at Zelda and found her blinking up at Darla with a pained smile plastered on her face. Darla’s own warm smile did little to ease his rapid heartbeat, and she clapped her hands together in delight.

“So! How long hav’ye two been married?”

Zelda could feel Link’s gaze on the side of her face, knew the panic she would see in his eyes if she were to break contact with Darla’s round face. Her own heart was racing, causing her palms to sweat. The thunder outside roared ferociously, and she made a quick decision.

“Only a few months!” she chirped cheerfully, finally turning to look at Link. His cheeks were colored bright red and his mouth hung open slightly. If she weren’t trying to maintain a façade she would have laughed aloud at his expression – but as it was, she simply batted her eyelashes at him and continued on.

“Isn’t that right...darling?”

Link snapped his mouth shut, clearing his throat roughly. He suddenly felt as though the house was a thousand degrees hotter than Mount Eldin, and resisted the urge to pull at his clothes. Zelda gave his fingers a quick squeeze to urge him to say something.

“Oh- uh...” He stuttered, glancing at Darla again. The woman was still smiling at them gently, though a slight suspicion had crept into her eye, and it made his stomach a little sick. Dear Hylia, his mouth was dry.

Zelda continued to smile sweetly at him, but he could see the desperation dancing behind her eyes. The rain was pounding on the roof, a swift reminder of what they would have been forced back out into, and he saw the silent message in her gaze – _Just go with it_.

“Yes. I uh- must have forgotten to mention it, last time I was here.” He stated, nodding once in Darla’s direction. He hoped she would buy it. He had never been a good liar.

Zelda pulled his arm close to her side and placed her free arm across his chest, her fingers skimming lightly on his collarbone. Her body was as cold as death, and Link pulled her closer instinctively. Whatever suspicion Darla had was evaporated, and the gleam in her eye changed to that of affection.

“How wonderful!” She beamed. “Well, I won’ keep ye from gettin’ out’a them soaked clothes ma’ dears. Please, the room is all yers”.

They both thanked her graciously, Link making a mental note to leave an extra tip for her kindness once they set off in the morning. As they made their way upstairs to the room, Darla informed them that dinner was to be served soon – once her husband had finished up in the kitchen.

Their room was small, but it had a certain charm to it that Zelda could not explain. It was cozy, and far better than anything they would have found at a stable. She heard Link walk in behind her and shut the door, and turned to face him with an apology ready on her lips. She hadn’t meant to take over the situation as she did – but just thinking about how awful it would have been to ride along or to attempt to pitch a tent in such a heavy storm was enough to spur her into action. She hadn’t stopped to think of how uncomfortable it might have made him, and that only made her feel even more guilt.

Her apology died in her throat however, when she turned to face Link and saw the clear relief etched on his face. She decided instead to try to lighten the mood.

“This is quite a homey place. How did you know it was here?”

The tension in his shoulders released at the first sound of her voice, and he reached behind his head to ring out the water in his hair as he answered her.

“I had been traveling through here once, trying to clear out a pack of bokoblins that were getting too close to Kakariko for comfort. By the time I was done I was deep off the main trail, and I came across this place. I was just going to set up a camp for the night, but Darla happened to spot me a little ways down the path and told me to come inside.”

“Well that was very lucky of you. And very kind of Darla” Zelda hummed, slipping her boots off and scrunching her nose at the sensation of her wet stockings on the floor.

“I’m sorry about what happened downstairs”

Zelda’s head snapped up to find Link staring at her apologetically.

“I had no idea Darla and her husband had a ‘married only’ policy. The first time I came here I was by myself, so...” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Zelda could only chuckle.

“It’s quite alright. I’m sure we can make do for the night. And it beats being out in the rain”

She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but there was still apprehension in his face. He placed their bags on the floor near the singular bed that sat pushed in the corner of the room and began digging through one for a set of dry clothes for each of them. Zelda was slightly upset that her Sheikah robes had been so heavily soaked during their short journey, but as Link offered her his Champions tunic and a pair of soft trousers he promised to have her clothes dried by the morning.

She stepped into the small washroom at the end of their room to change, quickly stripping out of her damp clothes and sighing at the dry fabric of Link’s own when they touched her skin. She emerged only moments later, and found herself staring at his naked back.

He struggled to pull his soaked Sheikah robe over his head, the muscles in his shoulders flexing, and Zelda made a small noise in the back of her throat as she hugged her wet clothes to her chest. He gave one last tug to free himself and turned at the sound of her closing the door to the washroom, the tips of his ears coloring pink.

She wasn’t sure why the sight of him like this was making her face heat so rapidly and her heart hammer in her chest. She had seen him shirtless plenty of times throughout their journeys – even before the Calamity had struck.

In those days she would often sneak out of her study in the warm afternoon air to watch from her balcony as he trained with the other guardsmen in the courtyard below, admiring the strain of his muscles and solid line of his form.

Those were some of her fondest memories of him, once she had truly realized how cruel she acted towards him and they had begun to grow closer. She would travel outside to watch him practice with the sword, hopeful that she could learn something of herself from his courage. He would always seem to know when she was watching, and would smile privately and wave to her as he danced around his current opponent.

But this Link was different. He was taller, stronger, and carried himself with a self-assurance that she had failed to see a hundred years before. He was but a boy when he died in her arms, and now – Zelda thought – he was truly the Hero.

He cleared his throat, and she realized that she had been staring at him for much too long. She quickly averted her eyes to the floor in embarrassment, and crossed to the other end of the room to drop her clothes in a heap on the floor. By the time she had turned to face the front of the room again, Link had pulled on his Hylian tunic and was gathering his own wet clothes into a pile.

“Darla knocked while you were changing, she said dinner is waiting downstairs for us”.

When they ventured into the dining room, Link was surprised to find another couple of travelers already at the table with Darla and her husband. They introduced themselves, and Zelda was careful to maintain her façade while they spoke. Darla’s husband, Thero, had brought out a bottle of wine half way through their meal to celebrate their wedding anniversary – and Link and Zelda were more than happy to oblige in a toast. The wine was warming Zelda nicely, and she found herself drifting closer and closer to Link’s side as the meal went on.

“How long have you and Darla been married, if you don’t mind me asking?” Link inquired, taking a long sip of his wine.

Thero beamed, placing a loving hand over his wife’s.

“Ah, it’s been 30 years this night, had’n it darlin’?”

“Right ye are” Darla smiled, leaning over to place a kiss on her husbands’ cheek.

Thero almost looked offended.

“Oi now! That won’t do fer 30 years worth!” He said. The whole table laughed, and he dragged his wife back in to give her a proper kiss on the lips.

“Ah, a good kiss. That is the secret I say, to a long and happy marriage,” mused Vala, the wife of the other couple who had joined them for dinner. Her husband, Embry, nodded along in agreement.

“Aye,” He said, turning to look into his wife’s eyes. “Always kiss like it is the first time, _and_ the last time”.

At that, they leaned together and pressed their lips in a passionate kiss. It went on for so long that it was beginning to make Zelda uncomfortable, and Thero cleared his throat to get the two of them to break it up. They laughed, slightly embarrassed, and everyone chuckled along with them.

“Well then Link,” Thero grinned, “I’ve kissed my wife, Embry here has certainly kissed his wife, I do believe it’s yer turn now!”

Link nearly choked on his mouthful of wine, pounding a fist to his chest.

“Oh no, no I couldn’t –“ He managed, in between coughs.

Zelda sat stricken, trying her best to not look as mortified as she truly felt on the inside.

“Oh go on lad!” Thero encouraged, “kiss her!”

Zelda felt as though she might explode, and she was certain her face must be as red as the wine in her glass, but she gathered the courage to look at Link beside her. He looked almost as terrified as she, and it took every ounce of self-will in her not to laugh at how ridiculous it all was.

He looked rapidly between Thero and Zelda, finally making a decision. He nodded once, in resolution of his plan, and brought his lips to Zelda’s cheek quickly. The whole table groaned with discontent, and Zelda’s smile slipped from her face.

“C’mon Link, giv’er a _real_ kiss.” Darla urged, bringing her hands up under her chin.

“Yer among friends ‘ere! Yer young, married, in love!”

Zelda opened her mouth to protest, but was cut off by the feeling of Link’s fingertips skimming across her chin to her cheek as he turned her head to face him. The expression on his face was something she had never seen before, and it nearly frightened her to see him again with so much open emotion splayed across his features.

He was looking at her through half-lidded eyes, his lips parted just slightly. Zelda thought she saw the corner of his mouth pull up in a smirk, but it was gone in an instant as he began to inch his face closer. His nose grazed her own, and Zelda instinctively closed her eyes in anticipation. She could feel his breathe on her lips, and she unconsciously tilted her head towards him. The first touch of his upper lip to her own sent a shock of electricity down her spine, and he let out a short puff of breath in response before completely pressing his mouth to hers.

His hand was still cradling her cheek, and he brought his other hand up to the back of her neck, holding her against him. He parted his lips, and Zelda moved to follow, pressing forward and fisting the front of his tunic in her hand. Her whole body was thrumming with warmth where he touched her, and she wanted to be closer. Their lips moved in tandem for a moment longer, and then as suddenly as it had started – it was over. Link pulled away gently, his hands leaving her skin cold as they retreated back to his lap.

His own mind was like static, barely registering the sound of the others cheering around the table. He dared not make eye contact with Zelda, for fear of what he might find in her eyes. That, he was certain, was something he would have to deal with later tonight. Instead, he focused on the plate in front of him – and devoured the rest of his food as fast as he possibly could.

After each one of them had finished their meals and bid each other goodnight, Zelda and Link made their way up the stairs to their room for the night. The high spirits of the evening had done wonders for Zelda’s mood, and the lingering kiss from her Knight was still fresh on her mind as well. Link opened their door and motioned for her to enter, holding it open for her as she strode past him. She could feel the nervous energy rolling off of him in waves, and it was beginning to make her anxious in turn. Perhaps it _was_ selfish of her to have put Link in such a position, and the guilt began to creep into her mind once more as it had earlier. His silence as they stood facing one another was enough to drive her crazy, and so she broke it.

“Would you like to talk about wh-“

“No.” He interjected sternly, though his face remained passive.

Zelda took a deep breath. She had gotten him to open up to her once before; but that was a different life, she reminded herself, and Link was a changed person. If he would not talk, then perhaps actions would suffice.

She gestured towards the bed.

“Well then, perhaps we should just get ready for bed”.

Link seemed to relax at that, and nodded wearily. The night had taken a toll on him and the thought of getting a full nights sleep sounded like heaven. He moved past her to rifle through his pack for his bedroll and began to lay it out on the floor next to the bed. Zelda watched him with a crease in her brow.

“What are you doing?” She questioned, sounding slightly irritated.

He glanced up at her, smoothing out the creases on his bedroll.

“Getting ready for bed, as you suggested.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest, and moved to stand just above him.

“I meant, why have you taken out your bedroll? There is a perfectly good bed right there that will fit the both of us.”

A strange look crossed Link’s face, and there was a beat of silence before he spoke.

“Zelda.” He looked up at her, “You can’t be serious. We aren’t sleeping in that bed together”.

Perhaps it was her own selfish motivation, or the aching need to feel his warmth against her again; just to remind her that they were both alive, safe, together – but she pushed through her frustration, and knelt in front of him.

“Why not? What was it you said before? ‘I hardly think we’ll meet anyone who will chastise us for not following the hundred year old royal protocol’?” She mocked in a poor attempt at imitating his voice. It earned her a half-hearted smile, but Link only shook his head.

“That was different, and you know it.” He scolded, “And what happened at dinner was to maintain a lie. There are no prying eyes on us now, and I have a duty to uphold; first and foremost, as your appointed guard”.

His words cut through her chest like a knife, and she could feel the hot burn of tears beginning to sting at her eyes. She knew they had simply been playing a part – but some piece of her had hoped that he found the same comfort in her as she did in him. He was the only thing she had left in this world. He was still looking at her with that berating expression, like she was a small child that needed protecting, and something in her snapped.

“To who?!” She bellowed. “Who do you uphold your duty to?! _I_ am the last of the royal line left alive. My _father_ appointed you as my Knight; but Link, I have only ever thought of you as my _companion_ ”.

A treacherous tear slipped down her cheek, and his eyes followed it sadly. She had exhausted herself with her outburst – and when Link did not respond she wiped her face and stood from the floor to enter the washroom. She closed the door harshly behind her, and Link kept his eyes on the floor in front of him where she had been just moments ago. He could hear her sniffling behind the door, but yet he could not find it in himself to comfort her. He had caused those tears.

 _You are a coward,_ he thought. _Farore would be ashamed._


	5. The Luminious Domain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the very late update! My state has just entered phase 2 of reopening and I work in retail so this week has been extremely crazy. Thank you for your patience and for all of your kind words! I am continuously working on this fic, and at the same time trying to balance work so the updates may become a little more spaced out in the near future. I appreciate all of your comments and support! Enjoy

Zelda had emerged from the washroom nearly thirty minutes later, and Link had been waiting for her; seated on the end of the bed, his bedroll nowhere in sight. They had talked for what felt like hours, and he finally told her of his struggles and hardships during his journey to rescue her.

There was much he still could not remember about his life, and Zelda tried as much as she could to fill in what little gaps she was able. He confessed to her that although he had awoken in the shrine with no memory of who he was or even the barest hint of his name, the moment he heard her voice call out to him; he knew he was meant to follow it.

It felt like fate, he had told her. It felt like destiny.

He told her of Kass, the singing Rito bard who helped him along his way; and imparted a history lesson or two in the form of a catchy tune. Her heart felt lighter by the end of their talk, and he had taken both of her hands in his in silence before whispering just loud enough for her to hear.

“Forgive me, but I will always feel my duty is to protect you. That’s the whole reason my soul is bound to yours, through time and in every incarnation; you are always my Princess, and I your Hero”.

“But I’m also just Zelda”, she had sniffled – squeezing his hands.

Link had looked into her eyes then, his own glassy and red-rimmed, and smiled.

“Yes. And I’m just Link”.

They hadn’t spoken much after that. Zelda let the tears come freely then – falling into his shoulder as she wept, relief overwhelming her. She did not know how long she had cried or how long he had held her, but at some point she must have fallen asleep against him, and when she woke in the morning he was curled protectively around her, breathing softly in her ear. She was loathe to get up and wake him – but the day would soon slip away, and she was eager to get to Zora’s Domain.

So they had set off with the early morning sun at their backs and fresh snacks in their packs, courtesy of Darla. The weather had cleared up beautifully, and they enjoyed the crisp air as they rode along the trial. The rest of their trip to Zora’s Domain was uneventful, for which Zelda was glad. It gave her a chance to study what was left of her land; and to carry on easy conversation with her knight.

He had remained open and honest into the morning after their talk in the night, and smiled at her at every opportunity. They were only a short distance away from Inogo Bridge when Link spoke up, his voice steady yet quiet.

“How much of our past do you remember?”

Zelda looked to him, confusion laced in her features.

“All of it,” she responded, “up to the very moment I strode into the castle to face Ganon”

“That isn’t what I meant”

Link looked pained, and she could tell that he was struggling to find the right words.

He sighed.

“I told you last night, that our souls were bound to one another. After awakening in the shrine, and piecing together what little of my memories I could; there was still only one thing I knew for certain...”

He glanced over to her, and Zelda nodded for him to continue. Her heart was racing, and she tightened her grip on her reigns.

“I have _always_ been at your side. I have known you in every life, and in different ways... but somehow its’ always the same.”

He looked into her eyes resolutely, and Zelda knew that he meant every word.

How could she have been so blind? He had fulfilled his duty, and deserved the chance to live a life as he saw fit – without her interference. Her breath came in rasps, but she found the strength to speak.

“You have a choice in all of this” she stammered, her voice betraying her. “Destiny or not, my kingdom lies in ruin. I am an heir to nothing, Link; and you are no longer under any obligation to me. If freedom is what you desire, then you may have it”.

Zelda turned her gaze steadily forward, refusing to meet his eye. She knew if she turned to him in this moment, she would surely cry; and she had done enough of that in his presence. He must have thought her so weak.

He reached out a hand to yield her horse, and to Zelda’s surprise, slipped off his saddle and came to stand at her steed’s side. She looked down at him then, steeling her expression to hide the aching feeling in her chest. He silently offered his hand to her, and she looked at it for only a moment before placing her hand in his open palm.

“Forgive me if I was not clear, your highness,” and he sounded so somber that she dared not correct his verbiage. “My place has been and always _will be_ at your side, by _my_ choosing. If you truly believe that I would be happier otherwise, you’re wrong.”

There was a wetness to his eyes, and he was rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb anxiously. Zelda swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked away the tears that were beginning to cloud her vision. Her voice was but a whisper when she spoke.

“Thank you, Link”.

He gave her a short nod and kissed the back of her hand lightly, sending a tingle through her arm, before returning to Epona’s back.

They crossed the threshold of the Great Zora Bridge a short time later, and Zelda began to notice the attention they were attracting rather quickly. Each Zora guard they passed would nod to Link in greeting, and stare in disbelief as they regarded her riding beside him. They reached the center of the Domain and dismounted from their horses, Link handing the reigns to a Zora guard whom Zelda assumed he knew.

Besides the odd glare by a few Zora civilians, their entry into the city went almost eerily unnoticed. Zelda couldn’t remember the last time she had been to Zora’s Domain but there, in its center, was a fixture erected that she knew had not been there before the events of the Calamity.

Mipha’s statue was luminous and beautiful in the dim light of the evening, and Zelda’s feet, seemingly by their own accord, carried her to stand underneath it.

Mipha’s carved face was that of a true princess, Zelda thought. Brave and courageous in the face of evil, but one could still see the humility and gentleness in her features. Her love for her Domain and its people were unmatched – and she was adored in return.

A heaving sigh brought Zelda out of her reverie, as she noticed Link standing beside her gazing up at the monument.

Zelda stared, and what seemed like hours passed before she had gathered up the courage to say something – but then Link spoke.

“I don’t remember her, if that’s what you’re wondering” He said, his eyes still scanning over every inch of Mipha’s glowing figure. He briefly caught her stare out of the corner of his eye.

“I have memories of her... but they don’t feel like _my_ memories”

Zelda remained silent.

“I don’t _truly_ remember her.” He repeated, this time in a whisper, almost as if he were speaking to himself. He blinked then, and his eyes finally came to meet hers.

She looked sad, and he could only imagine why. He may have the guilt to carry of not truly remembering the woman who loved him – but she had the guilt to carry of believing it was all her fault. He felt a wave of sorrow rush over him, and before rational thought kicked in he reached out to touch her cheek.

“Zelda, don’t.”

Zelda sighed softly, closing her eyes and leaning her face into his hand as his thumb stroked over the swell of her cheek.

A moment passed and then his hand was gone as fast as it had come, and Zelda’s eyes snapped open at the loss of his touch. His softened demeanor had disappeared, and in its place was one she was much more accustomed to seeing. He was standing at attention, and looking past her over her shoulder with a large grin spread over his face. She shot him a strange look, but swiveled her head, following his line of vision to look behind her. There – in the distance - she spotted a large red Zora striding towards them.

“Link, my friend!” Roared the Zora as he came to tower above them, “How glad I am to see you! And with the lovely Princess in tow, I might add!” He flashed her a sharp-toothed grin and bowed low, his hand across his chest.

“Princess Zelda, it is an honor to make your acquaintance. My sister often spoke of her fondness for you”.

It was then that the gears in Zelda’s head began to turn, and when the large Zora lifted his head to meet her eyes she was struck with a vision of a much smaller Zora, a fraction of his size but with just as much gusto, trailing along at Mipha’s side.

“Prince Sidon?” She whispered, her eyes widening in awe.

He leapt up to his full height then, pointing a thumb at himself with a haughty grin.

“The one and only!” He chuckled, his teeth glistening in the light.

Zelda couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up inside her, and she extended her arms up towards the Zora prince, capturing him in a tight embrace.

“My, how you’ve grown!” She giggled as he lifted her feet off the ground and crushed her to his scaly chest.

He set her down gently, and Link extended a hand for Sidon to shake, which the Prince did with much vigor.

“What brings you to the Domain, my tiny friends?” He questioned.

“I’m here to request an audience with your father, Prince Sidon” Zelda folded her hands in front of her formally, hoping to convey her urgency.

“Surely there cannot be more bad news,” Sidon frowned. “Why, the Calamity has only just been vanquished!”

Link lifted his hands in a placating gesture, shaking his head at the Zora Prince.

“Don’t worry Sidon, we’re just here to talk”.

“Purely business related” Zelda added. The tension dropped from Sidon’s shoulders, and he broke into a large grin once again.

“Well then let us not delay!” He boomed, beginning to lead them up the staircase behind them. “I’m sure my father will be happy to see you both”.

King Dorephan, as it turned out, was _not_ happy to see them both.

Link had led the way, step for step next to Sidon, into the open throne room. The King bellowed happily at the sight of the young Hylian, but when Link had stepped aside and Zelda emerged from behind him, Dorephan’s cheery attitude evaporated.

Zelda scrambled to stand in front of the King and kneeled low.

“Your Highness” She breathed, lifting her head. Dorephan regarded her skeptically as she stood back up to her full height and clasped her hands in front of her.

“Greetings, Princess. Tell me, what brings you to my domain so soon after the fall of demise?”

Zelda stood on shaky knees, trying her best to steel herself and regain a scrap of confidence.

“Rebuilding my Kingdom, King Dorephan, is what brings me here. As I am sure you know, Hyrule has lain in ruin for the past 100 years awaiting the return of the Hero.”

“And return he has!” bellowed Dorpehan, a slight chuckle lacing the end of his statement.

“Yes your highness, for which I am very grateful” Zelda said, as she turned slightly to look over her shoulder at Link, who gave a small smile in return.

When she looked again to Dorephan, his gaze was almost menacing. She shivered. She could feel Link’s eyes on the back of her head, and thought of what he would do, what he _did_ do, to gain the Kings trust. There was only one thing so precious to Dorephan and his people that would earn Zelda his unwavering loyalty – his daughter.

“I am grateful as well, your Majesty, to Mipha. Her sacrifice has not gone unseen, or un-mourned.”

At this, Dorephan stiffened. His advisor, an old withering Zora, huffed loudly.

Zelda could recall Link warning her about Muzu on the way to the Domain.

“He gave me a hard time when I first arrived,” Link had explained.

“He blames Hylians for Mipha’s loss... so don’t take anything he says personally.”

Zelda lifted her chin, determined not to waver. She took a deep breath and continued, looking straight into Dorephan’s eyes.

“It is because of Mipha’s sacrifice that myself and the Hero stand before you today. Without her help, demise may still have a foothold in this world. Her bravery was unmatched, your Highness, and her spirit will forever guard this Domain.”

The King leaned forward, and Zelda could see tears glistening in his eyes.

“Dear Princess, I thank you for your kind words regarding my precious daughter. It lightens my heart to know that her bravery did not go to waste. I know you cared for her, as we all did.”

Zelda nodded, a sad smile gracing her features. She glanced quickly to Sidon, who had moved to stand beside his fathers throne when they had entered the room. He caught her gaze, and winked slowly, giving her a private smile. This small boost of confidence urged her on.

“With respect your Majesty, I have come to you to discuss the formalities of the new Monarchy.”

Dorephan leaned back into his throne, now with a frown. Zelda felt her stomach churn – she had been doing so well. She wanted so badly to turn and run from the throne room, but she knew she had no choice. Her Kingdom depended on this.

“The new Monarchy?” the King scoffed.

Muzu chuckled at his side, and Link wanted nothing more than to tackle the old fish to the ground – and see if he was still laughing then.

“My tiny Princess,” Dorephan continued, “As you have been so keen to point out – the people of Hyrule have lived in ruin for a hundred years. The Hyrule your father ruled no longer exists, those people are no longer here. The people of this Hyrule do not know life with a sovereign. The events of a hundred years ago are but a legend to them, your name is but a bedtime story.”

Zelda could feel her resolve failing, and her shoulders slumped. However, she maintained eye contact with the King, if only to appease Sidon – who kept casting her sidelong glances of encouragement.

Dorephan sighed, shaking his head.

“After all this time... I do not think the people of Hyrule will take kindly to a Queen they do not remember.”

Muzu hummed in agreement, nodding his head slowly.

Zelda’s palms were sweating, and she could feel the lump in her throat growing – threatening to choke her. She cleared her throat weakly, and wrung her hands together. Perhaps Dorephan was right... the Hyrule she had known a hundred years ago was no longer here. Its’ people were long gone, its’ history passed into legend.

Was there truly a place for her in this new world?

“I – I, understand your hesitancy your majesty. But my kingdom needs a ruler, someone to unite and govern them. Surely you of all people understand that.”

“I do, Princess, I do. And I concede that unification is a noble cause, but governance? My dear, look around you. Hyrule’s people have governed themselves for a century, _without_ a monarch.”

At that, Zelda could say nothing.

“My Domain remains loyal to you, my Princess, whatever you decide.” Dorephan hummed, “but perhaps, you should think more on what is best for your people.”

There was an uncomfortable silence in the chamber as everyone collectively held their breath, waiting for Zelda to respond. But no response came from the Princess, as she finally cast her glance down from Dorephan’s face.

Link shifted anxiously on his feet, wanting nothing more than to comfort and defend her – but now was not the time to step out of line. This was royal business, and his interference would only serve to make things worse. He shot a pleading look across the room to Sidon, silently begging him to do what he could not, and vouch for Zelda’s intent. Sidon caught his stare, and exchanged a knowing look in his direction.

He stepped forward.

_Thank Hylia_ , Link thought.

“Father, if I may...” Sidon interjected, “I believe our young Princess _is_ doing what she thinks is best for her kingdom’s people, but she has had little time and even fewer council – perhaps you may reach a solution together?”

Zelda perked up at Sidon’s interruption, as King Dorephan regarded his son warily. Muzu looked as though he had been slapped in the face, and Link made a mental note to thank Sidon profusely when this was all over.

Eventually, Dorephan responds.

“My son is right. It is unfair of me to simply wish you luck and bid you farewell. Perhaps there is some advice I can lend you, in regards to your return.”

Zelda’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and a sigh escaped her lips before thanking the King endlessly for his kindness. He waved off her appreciations, and urged her to continue.

“I have spoken to my most trusted advisor, Lady Impa of the Sheikah, regarding the matter at hand. She believes a new Royal Council must be instated, in the name of unity and a new and prosperous Hyrule.”

Dorephan hummed, a giant fin coming up to stroke his chin.

“Yes...” he mused, “Yes I do believe I agree. A new council would prove amiable to your cause. But may I inquire Princess, whom are you considering to fulfill these positions?”

Again, Zelda goes silent.

Truly, she hadn’t thought so far ahead. There was scarcely any nobility left in Hyrule, and appointing members from an outside realm was certainly out of the question. She blanched at King Dorephan, feeling very much like a fish herself as her mouth flapped open and closed with no sound escaping.

Dorephan’s face contorted.

“Surely you do not intend to build a council exclusively of Hylians?”

Zelda’s eyes darted around the throne room desperately and landed on Sidon, who was very unceremoniously giving her a thumbs up.

A thought struck her then, and she smiled at Sidon before addressing his father once more.

“On the contrary your highness, I wish to construct my council out of each Region of Hyrule, with each member carefully chosen to represent their people and speak on their behalf.”

When she spoke this time, her voice was strong and steady. It sent a shiver down Link’s spine, and he regarded her profile with affection. She looked regal. She looked like a Queen.

The King looked surprised, and he chuckled softly at her statement.

“A very noble idea indeed. I am curious as to whom among the Zora you would deem worthy for the position?” He questioned.

“Sidon.”

Link interjected. He watched the look on Zelda’s face change from surprise, to fear, and then to understanding. He gave her a small smile, and stepped forward to stand at her side.

“My apologies your majesties, but I have had the honor of traveling a vast expanse of this land, and I have come to know many people. I can assure you there is no one more fit to represent the Zora than Prince Sidon.”

He looked at the Prince then, whose cheerful demeanor had seemingly evaporated. He stood awestruck, his eyes wide and glassy, and his body held straight as an arrow. Link frowned.

Zelda seemed to sense the apprehension in the room, and raised a hand to Link’s shoulder.

“I, too, can think of no Zora better for the job. That is, if Prince Sidon accepts.”

She looked to Sidon in question, holding out her other hand and plastering on her best pleading expression in the hopes that it would melt his resolve, but she found she didn’t need to – for the Prince was now beaming, his hands held tightly against his chest.

His eyes glimmered in the light of the luminous stones, and she realized he was on the verge of crying.

She smiled back at him, feeling tears prickle at her own eyes. He came towards them then, his arms outstretched to embrace them both simultaneously. When he pulled away, Link clapped him on the arm warmly.

“Your Highness,” Sidon breathed, kneeling to Zelda’s level and bowing his head, “I would be honored to accept your proposition. I will serve my people with honor, and I pledge my loyalty forever to your crown.”

“Thank you, Prince Sidon. I know your sister would be very proud to see you in this moment... as am I.”

With that, Sidon rose to his feet, swiping quickly at his eyes.

With the slight approximation of a plan laid out in front of them, Link and Zelda agreed to call for Sidon again when they had the rest of the council members appointed. Everything was beginning to take shape, and Link could see the bright future of Hyrule ahead – with Zelda as its Queen.

It seemed as though the hardest battle had been won, and now the pair began a new quest.


	6. The Lion Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand and more apologies for this update being SO incredibly late. I've been struggling with where I want to take this story and how I'm going to get there - so updates are going to be pretty irregular from now on as I only have about one more chapter after this pre-written. I hope you will all still enjoy it none the less! Comments and Kudos are always appreciated, I love to know what you guys like best about the story! (:

Zelda couldn’t remember a day more beautiful than this one in a long time. The harsh summer sun had finally given way to the light autumn breeze, and it delighted her to no end when Link had proclaimed that the leaves had begun to turn.

Small bursts of bright reds and oranges flecked each tree, their branches patterned with colorful sequences of leaves. It was a sight to behold - Hyrule in the fall, but what Link found even more becoming was the slight chill in the air that caused the tip of Zelda’s nose to turn the sweetest shade of pink. It was a day such as this that she was born. That – Link could remember.

They had returned to Kakariko shortly after their meeting with King Dorephan. And while their moods had been wary on the way there, their spirits had been high on their journey back. Impa greeted them fervently with congratulations, and wanting to know every detail of their talks with King Dorephan. Zelda relayed all that she could, but the trip back had been nearly as exhausting as the first and so Impa arranged for two guest cottages to be prepared for them both while they remained in the village.

Link stood guard that first night outside Zelda’s cottage door, too wired on anticipation to sleep, watching the fireflies float by and listening for any sound of her distress – and it was in an instant that he was transported to a memory:

* * *

_The doors to Zelda’s chambers were large and sturdy, but through them he could still hear the tell tale signs of her sniffling. She would always end up in a sour mood when the King reprimanded her, but this time was different. This time, it cut deeper. Link had kneeled, his gaze on the ground as he listened to Zelda attempt to stand up to her father, to explain to him what he did not understand. But none of that mattered to the King, as a sovereign or as a parent._

_Link had followed her afterward, her fists clenched and chin held high as she sped down the corridors of the castle towards her chambers. When finally she reached the doors, she ordered the guard away and when Link made to follow her inside she spun on him, eyes glassy and emotionless._

_“Leave”_

_She had commanded. But Link could hear the wobble in her voice, and opened his mouth to protest._

_“LEAVE I SAID!”_

_She had bellowed, placing a hand squarely on his chest and giving a mighty shove. The shock caused him to stumble back a step, just enough for her to slam the door shut, and leave him staring at the maple wood door._

_So he stood guard, and listened to her cries and her desperate prayers throughout the night._

* * *

When his mind is brought back to the present, the cold night air rushing across his cheeks, he gasps for a lungful. He can remember how badly he had wanted to rush in to Zelda’s chambers that night, wrap her in his arms and whisper to her that everything would be alright, as long as they were together. In the end though, his duty had trumped his emotions; just as they should have. But the memory of her sobs and pleads to the goddess through the heavy wood door were now forever ingrained in his mind – and he shivered.

Zelda’s birthday had been mere days after that. There had been no grand celebration, no large gathering of friends. Instead, Link travelled by her side to the Spring of Wisdom, hoping beyond hope that her powers would awaken. It had been the hardest of their trips yet, and Link had packed a homemade fruit cake with him for the occasion – hoping it would alleviate the pain in Zelda’s heart. But she never got to enjoy it.

He realizes suddenly that was the last birthday she ever got to celebrate... and in that moment he decides to do something about it.

Yes, it truly was a beautiful day. And Link had been _adamant_ that she spend the day with Impa and Paya. They had been in Kakariko for a few weeks now, waiting for the height of Summer to pass so they could travel to Gerudo next – to speak with Chieftess Riju.

Their time had been spent languidly, milling about the town and catching up on much needed rest.

Link, Zelda found, still insisted on following her wherever she went – but he was much more relaxed in his vigilance. Often times when he would accompany her on a researching excursion with the Sheikah slate, she would turn to ramble about some exciting new breakthrough she had, only to find him sprawled out on the grass, his arms folded behind his head, eyes closed and the summer sun warming his face.

The memory brings a smile to her face, and she’s brought back to the present by a swift slap to her arm from Impa.

“Ow!” She protests, rubbing the sore skin. Impa only cackles, the tea in her hand sloshing over the sides of her cup.

“Well how nice of you to join us!” Impa chides, “I wonder, where did your mind wander to dear child, that would cause such a look of _love_ to cross your face, hmm?”

Zelda’s cheeks turn a bright shade of red, and she immediately finds the cup of tea in her hand the most interesting thing in the world.

Impa cackles again, shaking her head.

“So, Master Link set off early this morning then, did he?”

Zelda takes a sip of her tea, still scorching hot, and nods.

“Yes. He woke me nearly at dawn and insisted I spend the day here in the Temple.” She explains, “I don’t know what he’s up to, but he specifically requested I not leave until he came to get me. I hope he hasn’t gotten into any trouble.”

Finally she meets Impa’s eye again, and sees only a soft expression on the wrinkled face. If she didn’t know better, she would almost call it adoration. Paya sighs wistfully in the corner, blowing on her own cup of tea, and Zelda’s brow furrows.

Surely, she’s missed something.

“What? What is it?” she inquires. “He’s not doing anything too dangerous is he?”

The look on Impa’s face doesn’t shift, and she takes a slow sip of her own tea before humming softly.

“Perhaps it is related to the day, dear princess” Impa suggests, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Zelda blanches.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Well well... my dear child, tell me of _all things_ the man with no memory remembered your day of birth and you did not?”

Impa scoffs and Zelda can feel the tips of her ears getting hot with embarrassment. In truth, she _had_ forgotten all about it. Though, after a century long battle with the incarnation of demise itself, the rebuilding of Hyrule and a newfound wave of affection for her Knight, Zelda’s birthday was the last thing on her mind.

“Oh...” she squeaks, “I- I truly did forget. But surely, that can’t be why he’s asked me to stay in today!”

Paya sighs wistfully in the corner once more, and this time when Zelda meets her eye she nods slowly, as if she knows something Zelda does not.

“Oh _goddesses_ ” Zelda whines, “What is he planning?! Please Paya, you must tell me.”

At this, the girl gulps and screws her eyes shut tight.

“I swore n-not to tell your highness! I-I’m sorry!”

Zelda can do nothing but groan and throw her face into her hands.

* * *

It was almost noon, and the sun was a welcome warmth to break up the cold breeze as Link ran about town. He had been planning this birthday surprise for weeks, and the day had finally come to put everything together. Nearly everyone in Kakariko knew, and it was a miracle that Zelda hadn’t found out yet.

Keeping the surprise had been agonizing, but he knew in the end it would be worth it.

Since their return to Kakariko Zelda had been lent countless outfits from Paya, and though the Sheikah garb was highly flattering on her – Din save him – Link knew that eventually she would need her own clothes. She was still sleeping in one of his old tunics for Hylia’s sake.

So Link had taken the short walk up to Claree’s shop one afternoon while Zelda was busy speaking with Impa to commission a new wardrobe for the Princess. He had requested a few simple dresses, her own pair of trousers, two simple blouses, a handful of soft nightgowns and most importantly – a special dress for her birthday.

Claree had been over the moon with excitement, and vowed to start designing on the spot.

She had dropped everything off to Links cottage that morning, and he had sprung into action setting up for the rest of the day. Everything was nearly complete, and the only thing he had left to do was deliver Zelda’s birthday dress to Impa’s temple and to get ready for the festivities himself.

He had sworn Paya to secrecy, as he knew he would need her help in getting Zelda to cooperate, and to guide her to where she needed to be when the time was right.

Claree had done a beautiful job with Zelda’s wardrobe, but she had particularly outdone herself with the dress Link now held in his hands as he bounded up the temple steps.

It was a simple thing, not too extravagant, as Link had wanted Zelda to be able to enjoy the festivities without the agitation of a large dress around her. But it was gorgeous in its simplicity. He had given Claree nothing but the theme of Zelda’s birthday celebration, and she had shaped it into fabric.

With a slightly shaking fist, he knocks once – then twice rapidly – to indicate to Paya that it was him, and waits patiently for her to answer.

When she opens the great doors, he can hear Zelda nearly stumble around her own feet as she rushes to stand and run to the entrance.

Link tries not to laugh as Paya is unceremoniously shouldered out of the way by the Princess, a look of suspicion already on her face. He smiles kindly at her, bowing slightly at the waist – his hands behind his back to conceal her dress.

“And just what do you think you’re doing here?” She asks mockingly, though her eyes sparkle.

“A special delivery.” Link stands straight and brings the dress out from behind his back.

The dress in his hands is nothing short of magnificent, and Zelda gasps softly as she beholds it. She takes it from Link carefully, holding it up to her chest in wonder. The smile that graces her face is like the sun, and Link can hardly look away. She is radiant with glee, and begins bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.

Link stifles a laugh at her childish demeanor and ducks his head.

“Now if you’ll excuse me Highness, I must get ready for the festivities myself. Wouldn’t want to be late...”

And with a wink to Paya, he turns on his heel and starts down the steps. Zelda watches him go, her grin beginning to make her cheeks sore. Paya closes the great doors then, and forcibly moves Zelda with two hands upon her shoulders up the stairs and into a room to prepare her.

Paya twists her hair this way and that, braiding and tucking so quickly Zelda barely can catch sight of her fingers as they weave in and out of her hair. By the time she is done, the afternoon sun has just begun to set and the room is aglow in golden light. Paya tucks one last strand into place the moment there’s a short rasp on the doors.

“That must be Master Link!” She giggles, helping Zelda button up the back of her dress.

Zelda can hear the great doors creak open downstairs, and the faint sound of Link’s low voice greeting Impa as he comes inside. Paya calls down to him, and in one swift motion she whisks Zelda to the top of the staircase.

There Link stands at the foot of the stairs, clad in a new tunic and trousers. He is a vision in all black, save for the intricate white embroidery that patterns his tunic. It is long sleeved, with a high neck and simple white buttons on the collar and cuffs. His hair is relatively unchanged, but Zelda catches a glimpse of the long plait at the back of his head that takes the place of his usual ponytail.

She glances down at herself, smoothing the silk of her new dress, and feels her cheeks heat. With a steadying breath, she begins her descent. At the first landing of the staircase, she finds the nerve to strike a pose.

“Well? What do you think?”

Zelda doesn’t think she’s ever seen the look on Links face before, a mixture of awe and something else she cannot name.

He looks as though he’s going to answer her, but instead he clears his throat roughly and bows – as though he’s caught in court. She can’t help the frown that creeps onto her face. She had felt as though they had been nearing normalcy these past few weeks, and his behavior now strikes her as a regression.

He’s waiting for a word of encouragement, or some semblance of permission to lift his head. His composure had nearly crumbled when he beheld her form coming down those stairs, and it took all his self will now not to bound up the few steps separating them and kiss her senseless.

Link screws his eyes shut tightly from where they face the floor, chastising his own mind. He can feel her eyes on him, waiting. But she doesn’t speak and so he slowly stands back to his full height.

“Princess.” He whispers as he meets her eye. She looks grossly dissatisfied, and he’s nearly about to ask her what’s wrong when she holds a hand up to silence him.

She glides down the rest of the stairs that separate them to stand in front of him, her eyes never leaving his face and her hand still raised. She places it over his lips when she’s near enough, and Link subconsciously holds his breath.

“We’ve talked about this,” she scolds him lightly, “Please, just call me by my name and I shall call you by yours. Unless you’d prefer I address you by your title, Sir Knight?” At this she raises an eyebrow.

Link can’t help the way his brows furrow in distaste and Zelda huffs a small laugh at the reaction.

“So I thought. Now! Let’s try that again shall we?”

She removes her hand from his mouth and clasps them together in front of her, once again waiting.

Link blinks and nods dumbly.

“So?” she asks again, “What do you think?”

This time, Link allows himself to bask in the sight of her.

The dress he commissioned for her fits her like a dream. It’s cut in a similar style to his own tunic, with a high neck and intricate embroidery. But her sleeves are capped, leaving the porcelain skin of her arms exposed. Claree had found the finest silk from Gerudo town and the richest dye from Hateno – and the product was astounding.

The silk hugged Zelda’s curves like a second skin, with just enough room to move around. It was a deep crimson, and it contrasted starkly with her emerald green eyes. The dress stopped just below her knee, and Claree had added a generous slit to one side of the thigh.

Link realizes he’s been staring rather intently at that slit, and takes a deep breath.

“You look... lovely. Zelda.” He manages, resolutely keeping his eyes on her face. She smiles that sunshine smile and claps her hands together.

“Isn’t it just gorgeous?! Oh I don’t know how I can ever thank you Link.”

He shakes his head and offers her his arm, guiding her towards the doors.

“Don’t thank me yet” He jabs. With his unoccupied hand he pushes them open, and steps through to the top of the temple steps. She opens her mouth to contest him, but it dies on her lips as she looks out to the village.

Merchant carts as far as the eye can see are lined down each pathway of Kakariko, flickering strings of lights and lanterns connecting each stall. Near the goddess statue in the center of town she notices a small band of players, each one of them from a different region of Hyrule. The soft music drifts through the air, mingling with the sound of conversation and laughter and Zelda is left awestruck.

Her hand falls limply from where it rests in the crook of his elbow.

Link walks forward and down the first few stairs to stand in front of her and holds out a hand, smiling.

“Shall we?”

Her eyes flit to his face.

“You arranged all of this?”

Link nods, wiggling the fingers of his outstretched hand.

“And they’re all waiting for you.”

She places her palm in his gingerly, tears threatening to cloud her vision. The pair walk down the steps side by side, Link stealing quick glances out of the corner of his eye. Her eyes are alight with wonder and she takes in every inch of the newly decorated village – and he counts it as a small success.

When they reach the bottom, Zelda is overtaken by the prospect of all the wonderful merchant carts and their goods. Unthinkingly she threads her fingers through Link’s own and makes a beeline for the vendor of handcrafted candies, dragging him along behind her. He laughs, and reminds her that they have all night to enjoy the festivites – but it does nothing to slow her speed or tamper her excitement.

She floats from stall to stall, sampling every food and buying a trinket from each vendor. She compliments each and every one of them warmly, and thanks them sincerely for making the journey to Kakariko.

It is only after her stomach is full and her pockets are rupee-less that she slows, lazily looping her arm through Links own as they walk through the lit pathways back towards the center of town.

“I don’t know how you managed it,” She lilts, “But thank you, Link. This was truly wonderful.”

He turns his head to smile at her and shrugs.

“You’re welcome... but it isn’t over just yet.”

Zelda’s brow crinkles, a silent question on her face. He is about to answer her when a squeal pierces through the air – and his attention is diverted. There is only half a second before he can react, and he is nearly tackled to the ground by two small blurs.

“Master Link, Master Link!!” They cry in unison, wriggling around him as he struggles to find his footing again. Koko and Cottla stare up at him from where they cling to his legs, giggling and squirming. He barely wastes a second before he crouches down low enough to scoop them both up into his arms, grunting with false effort. The girls can barely contain their glee, wrapping their chubby arms around his neck.

“Well well, if it isn’t the two most beautiful girls in Hyrule!” He gasps, causing both girls to uproar in laughter once again.

“You think us is the most prettiest!?” Cottla giggles, her round cheeks covered in sugar.

Koko begins to wriggle, and Link sets her down onto the ground - though she keeps hold of his hand and stays glued to his side as the group continues to walk.

“But of course!” Link answers, a genuine smile on his face as he bounces Cottla slightly in his arm.

“That’s not true!” Koko shouts, affronted. And when Link turns to look down at her she points a small finger at him accusingly.

“You can’t think _we’re_ the prettiest!”

“And why not?” He asks, pretending to bite at the small finger waving around in his face. Koko laughs but quickly returns to her stern expression.

“Cause you have to think your _lady_ is the prettiest! That’s what dada always says, isn’t that right Cottla?”

Cottla nods, a serious look on her face.

“Your special lady has to be the mostest pretty”

Link grins, and accidentally catches Zelda’s eye.

They’ve stopped walking, having reached the center of the village, and she’s gazing at him with so much open admiration that it makes his chest ache.

He tears his eyes away from her face and directs his attention back to the two little girls.

“Well,” he sighs, finally putting Cottla down, “I suppose you’re right. But seeing as I don’t have a special lady, you two will have to hold that title for now eh?”

Koko crosses her arms. “But what about Miss Zelda?”

Links face pales, and he dares not lift his gaze to where he can see Zelda’s mouth hanging open in shock. He slaps on his heartiest grin and chuckles awkwardly, reaching out to pat both girls on the head. He mumbles something to them about running along before they miss the big show – and just as quickly as they had come, they are gone in a flurry of limbs.

Zelda lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, and turns to face Link – who is refusing to meet her eye. She can see the redness at the tips of his ears, and smiles.

“They seem to adore you quite a lot.” She observes, laughing when he finally looks at her.

He rubs the back of his neck nervously and looks as though he’s about to apologize when the small band strikes up a fast tune, and dozens of villagers flock to the center of the village to surround them. He ushers her out of the way with a gentle hand on her elbow, bringing them to the edge of the crowd. People begin clapping along to the music, and Zelda finds herself so swept up in the atmosphere that she hardly notices when Link leans towards her and whispers that he will return shortly.

She looks to him briefly, his cheeks a little flushed, and nods. It is only shortly after he leaves that the band begins to end their song, and the crowd hoots and hollers as the players regroup.

Zelda looks around for Link, her head on a swivel to scan the gathering of people in the center of the village. Surely whatever he had gone to do cannot have taken so long – and concern begins to creep into her mind. She wants to break away to search for him, but when the band begins to play again they are suddenly accompanied by a large and ornately decorated costume of the dragon Naydra, and she finds she cannot tear herself away from the spectacle. She can see the legs of dancers underneath the fabric of the body as they jump and twist to the beat of the music.

The person controlling the head of Naydra bobs up and down, swaying this way and that in such fluid motions that Zelda is convinced they must know how to fly themselves. They bring the massive costume head close to the edge of the circling crowd, lunging at unsuspecting patrons as everyone squeals and claps in delight at their antics. Oh how she wishes Link was here to see it – and she again thinks of her concern at his not having returned yet. Just as she is about to leave to find him, two tiny sets of hands grab at her wrists, Koko and Cottla giggling as they drag her to the edge of the circle. She lets the girls take her, smiling as they keep hold of her hands even once they have breached through the line of people.

The dragon dancer spots them, hopping along to the beat and crouching low to sway the great dragons head back and forth in front of the two little girls. Zelda snorts at their teasing, and shouts in surprise when the snout of the costume is suddenly thrust in her face. The dancer taunts her, weaving around her as the music swells. She laughs, her hands reaching out to stroke at the soft fabric of the costume as it floats by her.

They return to the center of the circle, one by one the dancers exiting the costume.

Koko and Cottla scream in joyance at the appearance of their father from underneath the body as he approaches them, sweeping them both into a crushing hug.

It is only then that Zelda recognizes Paya standing nearby, and shifts to bring herself closer. She keeps her eyes on the only dancer left, the head of Naydra, but they have not revealed themself. The band continues to play a low rumbling tune of anticipation.

“Why do they not take off the mask?” Zelda asks, bumping into Paya’s arm lightly so as not to startle her. She still jumps.

“Oh! B-because they must first choose a partner” Paya answers, leaning towards her.

Zelda is intrigued.

“A partner for what?”

“It is tradition that the dragon dancer is the first to select their dancing partner for the evening. They start off all of the musical festivities – and it is legend that... well.”

Paya begins to blush.

“What? Legend that what?”

Paya giggles lightly.

“It is legend that whoever the dragon dancer chooses, the pair shall be blessed by the Goddess and- and become unified”

Zelda can feel her face heat, and tears her eyes away from Paya as the bands tune becomes more urgent, the dragon dancer beginning to scan the edges of the crowd for his partner. She crosses her hands in front of her and looks around for Link once more – her concern now bubbling into panic.

She is a second away from telling Paya she must excuse herself when the great head of Naydra is suddenly dominating her vision. She startles, stepping back with a gasp.

The dragon dancer wiggles the head back and forth, its ornaments jingling. They stay in front of her far longer than any of the other maidens, and she suddenly understands. Slowly, they lean down and reach to lift off the mask.

“Oh no, no I couldn’t!” Zelda pleads, “I’m waiting for – “

The costume head is dropped to the ground, and the dancer stands facing Zelda – his hair slightly askew.

“Link!”

He grins, attempting to smooth down his hair and extending a hand.

“Would you do me the honor, Princess, of the first dance?”

She wants to yell, to berate him for leaving her standing alone for so long and making her worry to death, but she finds her anger is evaporating and her own lips curl up into a smile.

“It would be my absolute pleasure, Sir Link.”

They begin the first dance of the night, the band choosing a simple melody to get everyone warmed up. It is Zelda’s first time dancing outside of the stuffy balls of the castle – and she is delighted so much by the idea that she can’t stop the breathless giggles that erupt whenever Link spins her in another direction. His own smile has not faded, and she revels in it. She catches glances of villagers pairing up, everyone joining in the joyful music as the night goes on.

They have been dancing for what feels like forever, each song giving only moments rest. Zelda is nearly dead on her feet, but when the band begins to play soft and slow Link takes her hand once more.

“This will be the last, I promise” He whispers, pulling her into his chest.

She goes willingly, letting her head rest on his shoulder and her free arm encircle his waist.

They simply sway, and for Zelda’s tired feet nothing is more perfect.

“Paya told me of an interesting legend earlier” She lilts.

He hums, just once, to let her know he’s listening. Zelda feels it vibrate through her.

She pulls back slightly to see his face better, tilting her head up.

“Of the dragon dancer tradition, and the pair that begin the first dance.”

Blue moonlit eyes meet her own, blinking, and she takes it as a sign to continue.

“Did you know they are supposedly blessed by the Goddess?”

Link smirks, squeezing her hand.

“I think we already have that covered.”

She laughs, “Yes, I suppose that is true.”

A deep breath.

“Did you also know they are meant to become unified?”

Link goes bright red, his eyes widening. Zelda lifts a brow at him quizzically, un-phased by his petrified expression.

“I-I- No I didn’t – I- In what, what way?”

Zelda takes mercy on him.

“Paya didn’t clarify.”

She sighs and rests her head back on his shoulder, their swaying gone unperturbed.

She can hear his rapid heartbeat, and grins.

Link huffs out a breath, placing a cheek on the top of her head.

“I guess that could apply to us as well.”

Zelda lifts her head so fast she nearly knocks him out, and her hand has started an almost painful grip on his own.

“What?”

Link stares at her.

“The unification in the legend. It would make sense, with our souls being reincarnated.”

His brow furrows, and he attempts to massage her hand to loosen.

“Why?” He asks.

Zelda can feel the pit of something in her stomach. She refuses to name it.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

She forcibly removes her hand from his, tucking both of her arms close to her body and entrapping them between her chest and Link’s own. She stays close, but she holds herself tense – as if she’s wound to snap.

Link sighs and wraps his arms around her torso, leaning his head down to speak low so that only she can hear.

“Zel – “

He sighs again.

“You know why-“

“Yes, yes I know. Your self imposed sense of duty is much more important than I am, I understand.”

Link pulls back to look her in the face.

“Zelda, no – I,”

“Then what is it Link?” Her eyes are sparkling, and Link feels a tug in his chest.

She speaks low and fast -

“I know the stories of our pasts. I may not remember them as you do but I know the legends well enough to understand the _relationship_ that the Chosen Hero and Goddess Incarnate have always shared.”

She says the word as if it burns her, and her hands fist in his tunic.

“I don’t – I don’t wish for you to force yourself to... return my affections. I know your memory is not what it once was, but, do you not love me? Even – even as a friend?”

Her breath catches, and Link is stunned into silence.

Her shoulders slump, and her gaze falls to the ground – defeated.

“Forgive me. I never should have said anything.”

His fist underneath her chin catches her, and when her face is tilted skyward she can see the glistening of tears in Link’s eyes. He’s shaking his head slightly, but no words are leaving his parted lips. He takes a shaky breath – and moves towards her, his thumb trembling where it grazes her bottom lip.

She holds her resolve, but she can feel her eyes slipping closed as he inches nearer.

There is a heat spreading in her body, her fingers tingling almost to the point of numbness and moving slowly up her arms. Behind her eyelids, a bright light shines, and she thinks to herself that it is taking an awfully long time for Link to reach her lips.

When she opens her eyes, expecting to see gentleness, she sees only panic in Link’s eyes. He has her wrists in a death vice, and she can see his lips moving rapidly – shouting – but hears nothing. Her gaze moves in slow motion to her wrists held in his grip, and she chokes at the sight of the triforce lit like a beacon on the back of her hand. Tendrils of hot white light stream out of her body, flowing around her arms and around Link’s shoulders.

He’s still shouting, she still hears nothing.

She blinks, and her vision blurs, the world tilting sideways.

She can feel her legs give out, Link’s grip on her arms the only thing keeping her from falling completely to the dirt.

She hears him scream her name once before everything goes black.


	7. Forever In My Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead! An update! Hallelujah! All of your kind words and encouragement have really meant a lot to me. This story has taken on a life of its own at this point and I admit I went through some really severe writers block. I actually have a plan in regards to the story at this point - so now it's just a matter of actually writing it. I'm so excited for you guys to come along on this journey with me, and I thank you for coming this far and being so patient. Updates will be slow, but I promise I have not abandoned this story. Please enjoy!

He’s breathless by the time he reaches the top of the temple, his arms trembling where they bear the weight of the unconscious Princess.

Paya struggles after him, heaving the doors open with a cry.

“Impa!” Link shouts, collapsing in front of the withering sheikah, Zelda still cradled in his grasp. “Please – Please I don’t know what happened.”

Impa slows him with a raised hand, and begs that he relays everything that took place. He informs her of every detail, save for the part where he had almost kissed his own charge, and waits as she strokes her chin in thought.

Zelda is still glowing, the white light now encasing her entire form. She’s slightly cold to the touch, and Link hugs her closer to his body.

The old Sheikah hums and then heaves a great sigh, her form crumpling.

“I was afraid this might happen...” she shakes her head.

“What is it, grandmother?” Paya asks, her hands clasped tightly to her chest.

“From what you have witnessed, it is what I can only assume was known as ‘Goddess Sickness’, thousands of years ago.”

Link simply stares, urging Impa to keep going.

“I don’t know much, only that it is a transference of power, and that it is a very dangerous process.”

“A transfer of power? From what?” Link inquires, his brow fixed in a permanent crease.

Impa tuts. “Not a what, young Master Link, a _who_. And that who is the Goddess herself.”

“Hylia is transferring her power? But I thought Zelda already awoke her sealing power a hundred years ago.”

Link shifts the princess in his arms, her head lolling carelessly in the crook of his elbow.

“The sealing power is not the only gift Hylia can bestow,” Impa murmurs.

“It is what was necessary to defeat the Calamity, but had it been another foe – another power may have been more fitting.”

“You’re saying... there’s more.” Link lifts his eyes to Impa’s face, and she hums in affirmation. “Will she be ok?”

Impa sighs once again, her gaze falling.

“I do not know. But if she is not able to harness the Goddess’ power properly – I fear it will consume her.”

A soft sob escapes Paya from the corner, and she covers her mouth quickly with her hand. Link does his best to ignore her – he can’t let the emotion overcome him.

“What do I need to do?” he begs.

Impa shakes her head, her eyes tracing the limp figure of the glowing princess.

“There is nothing you _can_ do, dear Link. She must rest, and regain her strength. And then – we must hope.”

* * *

The first time she wakes it’s to the sound of chirping birds and a soft whistled tune somewhere in the distance. The ground beneath her is soft and warm, her body cushioned comfortably in the forgiving material. She blinks hard, wincing at the sunlight in her eyes. Everything seems so bright.

With a grunt she moves to sit upright, but the world around her spins and she finds herself falling back into the soft comfort of the ground beneath her, her eyes slipping closed and the blissful dark encroaching into her consciousness once again.

The second time she wakes it is to the feeling of her body shivering violently. It’s dark, and it takes all of her concentration to keep her teeth from chattering straight out of her skull.

She pulls at the blanket pooled around her waist, wrapping it tightly around her shoulders and sighing at the leftover warmth. She can see nothing in the darkness of wherever she has wound up, and she finds in the haze of her mind that she doesn’t particularly care. Her eyes are heavy, and she is finally beginning to warm, and so she drifts away once again.

The third time she wakes, it is with a gasp. Her body seizes, and her eyes fly open of their own accord. It feels as though hot, liquid light is streaming out of her throat and she coughs desperately to calm the sensation. She coughs so hard her eyes begin to water, and she squeezes them shut as she gasps for air.

She hears a banging - footsteps on wood approaching, and forces her eyes open. Her vision is blurry with tears, but there is no mistaking the sight of her knight when he kneels before her, a small clay cup offered in his hands. She takes it gratefully, her hands overlapping his as he helps lift it to her lips. She gulps down the water without inhibition, streams of liquid spilling down her chin in her desperation.

“Hey, Hey, slow down.” Link soothes, setting the cup on the floor beside him when she is finished – sighing in relief and swiping a hand across her mouth.

“What happened?” She asks, “Where are we?”

There is sweat drying on her brow and making her shirt stick uncomfortably to her back. She winces at the sensation and screws her eyes shut. Link’s knuckles graze over her forehead, pushing hair away from her face and startling her eyes open.

“You feel feverish.” Is all he says, his eyes laced with concern. He flips his hand, his open palm pressing against her forehead and sliding down to cradle her cheek.

“What do you remember?”

“My birthday,” Zelda pouts as she turns her face into his hand, “all of that delicious food, the beautiful trinkets, dancing...” She trails off, her eyes glazing over.

“Zelda?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” she accuses, “where are we?”

Link removes his hand, and she almost whimpers.

“Hateno Village. In my home.”

It is for the first time that Zelda realizes how eerily quiet it is, and that she is sat in an extremely plush bed with no one else but she and her Knight seemingly in sight.

“How-“ she blinks, “How did we get here?”

And then – “You have a house?!”

Link flushes, a small laugh puffing out through his nose.

“I suppose there is a lot I need to explain.”

Zelda crosses her arms and waits.

Link recounts the horrific end of what had been such a fanciful evening, and the subsequent advice of Impa to take the Princess somewhere less vulnerable while she recovered. He tells her of their lone voyage to Hateno, of which she was mostly incapacitated and drifting in and out of consciousness, and her cheeks heat momentarily at the fleeting thought of what passing travelers must have wondered at the sight of them.

“You’ve been asleep for nearly a week.” Link whispers, his voice carrying an undercurrent of relief.

Zelda nearly shrieks. _A week?_! A whole week has passed unbeknownst to her and she still has very little grasp of the idea of how she got here, supposedly in Link’s own bed in a home that he, himself, owns. All she knows is that her limbs feel heavy and that the burning sensation in the back of her throat will not abide no matter how much she tries to swallow it down. She lets a shuddering breath move past her lips, Link’s eyes tracing over every inch of her face with barely concealed concern.

“I think...” she starts, blinking at him slowly until her vision swims, “I think I’m going to be sick.”

And then she promptly leans over and wretches.

* * *

It is only after she is wrapped in a blanket with a cup of tea and a roaring fire at her heels that Link explains the severity of their situation.

He had helped her ease her way out of bed earlier – after she had expelled most of the bile lying dormant in her stomach – and gotten her cleaned up. A bucket of fresh water, a new rag, and some privacy was all he would allow her. She was still too weak to make the trek down to the pond, and too weak to argue with Link about it.

Now, with him sat beside her on the hearth and his own cup of tea in his hands, he speaks.

“You were glowing,” He explains with his eyes downcast, “and you were cold and I thought - ”

He takes a shuddering breath, his shoulders hunching inwards as his words trail off into silence. He looks small, and frightened, Zelda thinks. Her hands shake where they curl around her cup and the heat seeps through to her palms so badly that it almost burns, but she only grips tighter.

“The triforce...” she mumbles, “I saw it. On my hand.”

Link nods, finally meeting her eye.

“It lit up on the back of your hand just seconds before you fainted.”

“Ganon...”

“Is gone.” He finishes, his voice resolute despite the slight tremble to his lips.

“As far as we know, it has nothing to do with him. Only the Goddess.”

“I don’t understand.” Zelda squeezes her eyes shut, “Why would Hylia do this? Why now, when Hyrule is safe and at peace?”

“I don’t know,” Link sighs. “According to Impa this hasn’t happened in thousands of years.”

Zelda lets out a frustrated huff, resisting the urge to hurl her cup of tea against the wall with all her strength. How dare the Goddess come to her now, when all is said and done and their destinies fulfilled. How dare she impart her gifts when they are no longer of use to Zelda, after years of praying – _begging_ – for the strength to seal the Calamity. How _dare she_ make Zelda lose the boy she loves, as if he was nothing more than a pawn, and suffer for a century in the suffocating hatred of Demise and his malice.

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until Link swims into her vision, his face contorted in unease and blurry from her tears. She lets out a sob, falling forward into his chest as he quietly shushes her – a hand rubbing soothing circles onto her back.

“Is it all a cruel game?!” She shouts, her voice muffled in his chest. “Why make us suffer when she could have helped all along?! I don’t _want_ her power now!”

Link rocks her slowly.

“Hylia has a purpose,” he soothes, “but it is not for us to know.”

She hiccups a laugh.

“You sound like my father.”

Zelda can almost hear him smile. He pushes her up gently by the shoulders so he can look her in the eyes, and the fingers that wipe away the tear tracks on her cheeks are calloused and warm.

“I’m mad too, Zel.” He whispers, his eyes glistening. “But it must mean _something_. I refuse to believe our friends died in vain.”

She sniffles, nodding her head. The simple action makes her slightly lightheaded and she groans.

“I feel so weak.” She whispers, and Link doesn’t ask her to elaborate. A few minutes later she finds herself cradled in his arms, slowly trekking up the small flight of stairs to the loft. She’s nestled gently onto the bed, the blanket around her shoulders still cocooning her in warmth. She’s not sure, but she thinks she feels the cool press of lips to her forehead before she’s swept into darkness once again.

* * *

_Hero of Time.... awaken._

A forceful and whistling wind whips her hair this way and that, white and gold mixing with the sky. She sees through her own eyes, though her body feels foreign.

There is a battlefield before her, bloody soiled and body littered. She wants to scream, but a voice soothes her – one that leaves her own lips.

_Fear not, for their sacrifice will build a new world._

She floats, her hand grazing the blood soaked tunic of a soldier fallen. He gasps at the sight of her, reaching weakly with a mangled hand to grasp at the hem of her unsoiled white dress. She lets him. Covers his hand with her own, aglow with golden light and the Triforce ablaze on her palm.

 _Rest now,_ her mouth says as the soldiers eyes flutter closed.

She continues on, eyes searching. She finds him – a lone figure standing. His armor is cracked, his hair matted with mud and rain, his tunic torn. He does not turn to face her until she is hovering directly at his side, an ethereal hand placed on his shoulder.

_The fight is over, my beloved._

His face is ashen white, war paint forming intricate shapes along his cheeks, eyes and forehead. He looks like a warrior, a God, a –

 _Fierce Diety,_ her mind finishes.

She watches his face flicker, the war paint fading from his face to be replaced by eyes she knows so well. She can feel her breath choke – but her body does not allow anything else. She doesn’t see the wounds littering his body until her eyes catch the slight lean of his stature, his weight resting heavily on the hilt of his sword. It is heavily reminescent of her own memories, and eyes that are not her own flit across his features as he sways dangerously.

 _Link,_ her body breathes, _Link._

His eyes bore into her own, a silent question in his gaze.

Her hand grazes the gritty expanse of his cheek, soil and blood disrupted by the passing of her fingertips. He follows her touch, his hand coming up to grip her wrist and Zelda feels her throat swallow a whimper.

 _Stay,_ she wants to whisper. _Don’t leave me again._

He blinks slowly, his always vigilant and striking blue eyes glazing over.

 _Stay,_ she wants to shout. **_Please_** _don’t leave me again!_

When he collapses, she is there to catch him. Her hands, still glowing and hardly her own, encase his broken body. His strangled cough causes blood to bubble across his lips, and his ragged breath drifts across her cheeks as she leans over him.

 _I will find you again,_ this voice says. _I will always find you._

His blood is warm and sticky where it touches her lips, and she feels him breath her name into her mouth as he finally falls limp in her arms...

_Hylia._


	8. Queen of Twilight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The narrative of this chapter is all over the place, so I apologize in advance for all of the hopping between past and present. There was a LOT of information that I was trying to fit into one singular chapter - just for pacing sake. Hopefully it isn't too confusing! Without further ado...

* * *

Zelda balances the wicker basket precariously on her hip, shifting so that it hikes up higher as she walks across the bridge that leads to Link’s home. He greets her at the side of the house where he is brushing through Epona’s mane half-mindedly as he feeds her an apple.

She places the basket on the ground and reaches up to stroke the mares nose, a huff passing through the beasts lips as she does. Link smiles at her.

“How was the market this morning?”

“Quiet. Although Sanji did catch me as I passed the Inn again.”

Link groans, and she can see his eyes roll from the side of her vision.

“What did she say this time?”

Zelda crosses her arms and faces him, puffing out her chest and screwing up her nose in her best impression of the innkeeper she can muster.

“Oi young maiden! I have yet to see a band on that finger of yours! You tell young master Link he best make an honest woman out of you or I’ll be knockin’ his head in soon!”

Her vocal impersonation could use some work, but it does the trick. Link blushes a furious red, slapping his hands to his face with a moan of distress. Zelda giggles.

“They seem to think you quite the inhonorable young man,” she teases, “living with a young maiden... _unwed_.”

He peeks at her from between his fingers and she waggles her eyebrows at him, smirking.

“Oh no, not you too!” He admonishes, though she can see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She takes mercy on him, tugging his hands from his face and picking up the basket from the ground.

“Come on,” she laughs as she kicks open the door, “these vegetables won’t peel themselves.”

They stand shoulder to shoulder prepping their meal, vegetable shavings littering the countertop and spices spread out as far as the eye can see.

Link hums a gentle tune as he works, fingers nimble and precise as he carves around a potato.

“I saw Symin on his way to the lab this morning” Zelda says, breaking their careful silence. Links humming stops abruptly and she can see him shift minutely towards her out of the corner of her eye.

“Yeah?” He asks, “Did he have anything for you?”

She sighs.

After her dream - _or memory,_ her mind supplies – a few weeks ago, Link had suggested they take the long trek up to the Research Lab. Zelda had been ecstatic, mind buzzing with the possibilities of meeting and discussing with like-minded researchers. What she hadn’t anticipated, however, was the gentle way Link had stopped her with a hand on her forearm before reaching the front door. In hushed tones, he had explained that she would not find a stranger inside – but her dear friend Purah. She had been confused, elated, and more than ready to barg inside to see her old friend when he tentatively warned her that Purah was not as she remembered her to be. Zelda’s mind had flashed to Impa, her once young and nimble advisor now withered by time and age – and she had steeled herself to meet the same wrinkled face on her sister. She was met with something very much the opposite.

It had taken a few long moments of explanation before Zelda was able to wrap her mind around the idea of a de-aged Purah, but after her initial shock had worn off the two had fallen into their same behaviors as a hundred years ago.

Link did his best to recall the events of her birthday to the young scientist, and to relay the information that Impa had given him. Purah had merely scoffed.

“ ‘Goddess Sickness’, psh! My sister is so dramatic!”

“So... it _isn’t_ a curse then?” Zelda had asked, hands wrung tightly.

“A curse?!” Purah had yelped, “I should think not! But it _is_ to do with the Goddess, that much is for sure.”

She had barked at Symin to pull out every book they had in their small aresenal of a library on the origins of the Goddess and her sealing power – and when their search came up short, Purah snapped.

“The Castle library MUST have ancient records, wouldn’t you say Princess?”

“I-I would think. Yes, I’m quiet certain that it would. But Purah, I don’t know how much has survived.”

“A great deal.” Link had interjected. When Zelda looked to him, he had only shrugged.

A recovery mission to the castle then, was the logical next step in Purah’s eyes. Link had whole-heartedly agreed, and preparations were made for his journey back to Hyrule castle in a weeks time. He would bring along Symin, and Robbie’s young son Granté to help aid in carrying back their findings. But the night before the trio were due to make their excursion, Zelda had tossed and turned in her sleep – too worried and plagued by memories to drift off. Link had found her sat up in his bed and wide awake in the early hours of the morning when he had rolled out of his cot downstairs to leave and collect Symin and Granté from the lab.

She had tried and tried to keep her composure, but when he came upstairs bearing a soft goodbye she could not keep her body from trembling. And when he asked her in a quiet voice what was wrong, the dam had broken. She had begged him to stay - to stay in Hateno and away from that awful, evil place as tears spilled down her cheeks and her lips quivered. It hadn’t took much convincing past that. Link had hastily set down his travel pack and scooped her in his arms, her face nestled softly in the crook of his neck. He set out to the lab shortly aftwerwards to inform Purah of their change in plans with promises of returning to her quickly, and upon his return they had cooked a large breakfast and resolutely not talked about her fears.

Nearly three weeks had gone by since Symin and Granté had left Hateno to recover all the literature about the Goddess they could find in the Castle library. Word had been sent to Purah a mere two days prior of their arrival to the stable nearest town – but no mention of their findings had been made. Zelda had crossed paths with Symin on her way back from market that very morning, a large canvas bag slung over his shoulder. He had been elated to see her – and explained that Granté had begun his journey back to his fathers lab. With a quizzical brow Zelda had gestured to the bag on his shoulder and inquired as to whether or not they had had any success, and with a sly grin Symin had informed her that she would simply have to come and see herself.

She repeats this interaction to Link, careful to leave any infliction of hope out of her voice. But he turns to her with eyes sparkling anyway, and she can’t stop the smile that creeps onto her face.

“That’s fantastic!” He gushes, a toothy grin splitting his cheeks. “Why don’t we head up to the lab after lunch?”

Zelda nods, continuing her careful ministrations on the carrot in her hands, and hopes that her good mood is not soured by the news they may receive.

Lunch is delicious, but she finds she can hardly bear to swallow more than two bites. Her nerves turn her stomach, and the thought of food leaves her feeling nauseous. Zelda sets down her fork with a sigh, and Link’s eyes snap up from where he has been resolutely scarfing down his meal.

His voice is soft when he speaks.

“Whats wrong? Is the stew not to your liking?”

“What? Oh, no! no – it’s quiet wonderful. I just-“

She can feel the tears welling up in her eyes, and she fists her hand on the top of the table.

“I just don’t want any more bad news is all. And I – I’m _scared_.”

Zelda keeps her eyes firmly to the table, afraid that if she sees the pitying expression on Links face at her admission she may fully burst into tears.

A warmth slips over the top of her hand, and her gaze drifts over to the sight of Link’s palm folded neatly over her fist. He squeezes lightly, his fingers gently prying her hand open. She relents, and turns her palm skyward to slide it flush against his own.

Link sighs at the contact, the muscles in his hands twitching in her grasp. This is all so new to him – Zelda thinks as she strokes her thumb over his knuckles. To be trained as a soldier, favored by the Goddess and sworn to uphold his sacred duty to the crown, he has never had much intimacy in his life. Such is true for the both of them, she muses. And yet here Hylia has placed them, exchanging careful yet easy touches across the tabletop. He has improved greatly since their arrival to his home – only ever reverting to her title when he is frustrated or tired.

She had tried and failed to get him to sleep in his own Goddess-forsaken bed – there was surely room for the both of them – but he had balked at the suggestion. The incident at Darla’s inn had been out of concern, he explained. A slip up, one which he apologized profusely for in every way imaginable and swore would never happen again, lest he revoke all meaning of his duty. Zelda had simply rolled her eyes, too exhausted to argue. But in the following weeks since their first visit to Purah’s lab, he had begun to open up little by little. It started as small, gentle touches to her lower back as he helped her down the stairs – still too weak after her slumber to brave them on her own. It then progressed to light touches on her arm, just to catch her attention as he spoke to her. And when they ventured outside his home for the first time to visit the market he had slipped his hand easily into her own – when she weaved her fingers between his, he dared to send her a small smile and Zelda’s heart nearly beat out of her chest.

Life in his small Hateno home had been pleasant – domestic. And for a while Zelda was able to forget about the expectations set before her and the looming dread of Hylia’s power. But now Symin had returned, and there were questions that needed answering. And she was _scared_.

Link’s voice breaks through her reverie.

“We don’t have to go up there today if you don’t want to. It can wait until another time.”

She tears her gaze away from their joined hands, giving him a thin smile.

“No, I want to go. I need to know – I need to know what’s...” She swallows.

_what’s wrong with me?!_

He hears the silent end of her sentence, no doubt reliving the memory of the last time those words had crossed her lips – shouted at first and sobbed the second, as deathly cold water soaked her prayer dress.

He squeezes her fingers again, his eyes sad but determined.

“Alright. But only if you’re sure.”

She nods, and he sighs.

“I’ll prep Epona. I won’t have you walking in this state.”

It’s a full fifteen minutes before they are ready to depart, and another half an hour before they reach the lab atop Epona. When they enter, they find Purah lost among stacks of old books – ancient scrolls spread haphazardly across the table in the center of the room and strewn all over the floor. Symin is deep into a large volume of _something_ – his hands on his head as he scans over the words with care.

Link clears his throat to get their attention, shutting the door gently.

“AH! LINKY!” Purah shouts, the top of her buns bobbing above a precariously balanced tower of books. She emerges from behind it, glasses askew and a faint flush to her plump cheeks.

“AND Zelda! Oh Princess you’ll be so thrilled to hear what we’ve discovered!”

Zelda leans down to hug her tiny friend, a small laugh escaping at her enthusiasm.

“I’m relieved to hear you say so, Purah. Please – tell me all you know.”

They cross to the center of the room, Link pulling out the only chair that isn’t overrun by literature and gesturing for her to sit. She thanks him, and watches with amusement as Purah pouts until Link finally huffs and picks her up by the armpits to place her on the top of the table. Purah reaches for his face and pinches a cheek hard as he swats at her hand, grumbling all the while.

Purah turns her attention to the corner of the room and squeals.

“Symin! Bring that enormous thing over here!”

Symin is snapped out of his trance, shaking his head and lifting the book in his lap – no small feat it seems – to carry over to the group. He hefts it onto the table, the resounding thump making Zelda’s teeth rattle. It is open almost perfectly to the center, and she finds herself staring at a very familiar picture – that of the Goddess.

Purah snaps.

“This. Book. Right. Here -“ she says with a tap of her foot to emphasize each word, “is the answer to all of our questions.”

“What exactly is it?” Link asks, leaning over Zelda’s shoulder.

“A comprehensive history of every single one of your past lives.” Purah says lazily, as if she has not just made an incredible statement.

Zelda’s mouth hangs open, and when she lifts her head to meet Purah’s eyes she sees mischief sparkling behind her spectacles.

“Have you read the whole thing?” Zelda asks her, hands involuntarily reaching to touch the worn pages of the text.

“Pft, are you joking? Have you seen the thing? It would take me months to read that monster. But Symin and I did take turns skimming through the first half.”

“And?” Link inquires.

“And I think we have a pretty general idea of what this ‘Goddess Sickness’ thing might be.” Purah kneels down, crawling across the table until she reaches a notepad covered with scribbles.

“Symin and I have written down every time its been mentioned in the text so far.”

“Its happened more than once?” Zelda chokes, the thought of having to live through this in more than one lifetime suffocating her mind.

“Thats the thing, we’re not sure.” Purah sighs, “It’s rarely mentioned by its name – but the symptoms and powers of some of your ancestors match almost exactly, just in varying degrees.”

Zelda turns to look over her shoulder, Link’s ever blue eyes meeting hers with uncertainty.

“Impa _was_ correct about one thing. The first time it is ever mentioned as the ‘Goddess Sickness’ was over a thousand years ago – after the defeat of the Twilight Realm.”

Link breathes in harshly through his nose, glancing up at Purah with hardened eyes.

Zelda knows he has more knowledge of their past lives than she – a lasting effect from his long sleep in the shrine of resurrection - and she idly wonders how much of this past he can recall.

She takes a deep breath to steel her nerves.

“What happened?”

Purah’s eyes suddenly turn sad, and it frightens Zelda to see the expression on such a young and usually lively face. Silently, she turns the book towards her and flips to a page closer to the beginning. When she finds what she’s looking for, she clears her throat and puts a finger to the text and begins to read:

“ _I write this entry with a heavy heart. Hyrule’s beloved Queen has left her. There are no words for the depths of sorrow and despair our land now finds itself in. I myself haven’t the barest idea of what we shall do without her. Zelda, my Queen, my love, my wife. She was the brightest of my days, even when steeped in Twilight. I fail now to even comprehend how this all came to pass. The healers tell me there was nothing anyone could do, but I cannot accept that no hope existed for her. The power took her body over in a matter of months, and there was nothing I could do but watch as she suffered. It flared with her emotions, easing and ebbing with her daily moods. Hylia’s blood, it seems, was both her blessing and her curse. She awoke in the middle of the night a fortnight ago, gasping for breath. When the sounds of her distress woke me I could barely see, the light pouring from her eyes and mouth were so blinding. She reached for me, and I held her as her body grew stiff and the light continued to stream from her. She struggled to fight it – I knew when I saw the blood drip from her nose – but in the end her strength waned, and this – this Goddess sickness overtook her. She has been gone from me ever since. I fear I will never forgive the Goddesses for taking her from me – or from her people. Hylia be damned. I only pray that no other will have to suffer as she did. My beloved, Zelda._

_Glory be to the Queen, always. Signed,”_

Zelda lifts her head, hot tears streaming down her cheeks, to meet Purah's gaze.

“ _Link. King of Hyrule.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I always end on these terribly dramatic scenes! Also, to the hardcore LoZ timeline peeps - please don't come for me. I took extreme artistic liberty in including the whole "past lives" and Twilight Princess business but I promise it is all for the sake of the storyline. And never fear, our duo will still be traveling to the other regions - this story is loooong from over. I hope you enjoyed and that I have kept you on your toes! Kudos and comments always appreciated <3


	9. Unification

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *chanting* LINK'S POV, LINK'S POV!!!  
> I realized I have fallen into writing this story almost solely in Zelda's pov, so I wanted to change things up a bit with this chapter and delve a little bit deeper into Link's character.  
> Hence, probably why this one is so short. I hope you like it anyway! Things are getting reeeaaallll.  
> Comments and Kudos are my writing juice so thank you thank you thank you.

* * *

The book is snatched from the table and in his hands before Purah has a second to blink. Link’s eyes roam over the text over and over, the words at the end of the page taunting him.

_Link. King of Hyrule._

_Link. King of Hyrule._

_Link. King of Hyrule._

No matter how many times he reads it, the words never change. He swallows down the bile climbing up his throat and keeps his eyes resolutely on the book in his hands. He can hear Zelda next to him, sniffling lightly and shifting in her seat. He dares not meet her teary gaze.

“Purah...” He says, his voice low and dangerous, “how is _this_ good news?”

Purah huffs, affronted, and crosses her hands across her chest. “I never said it was _good_ news, just that it was news.”

Link sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose. If he has to think about this any harder he’s going to get a headache. A warm sensation on his forearm draws his attention, and he looks down to see Zelda’s hand gripping at the sleeve of his tunic. Her eyes are glassy and far away when he looks to her face, and she silently reaches out to ask him for the book still settled in his arms.

He hands it to her wordlessly, a look of apprehension crossing his features. He watches her skim over the passage, first with barely a hint of emotion- until she reaches a certain point, and her nose crinkles with the effort of resisting her tears. Link can hardly bear to watch. He kneels next to her seat, a comforting hand on her shoulder as he watches one silent tear race down her cheek. Her breath hitches, and then she’s pushing the book off of her lap and away from her, the force of it sending it sliding across the tabletop.

“Is there no hope, then?” She asks Purah in a trembling voice, wiping at the tears on her face. Link stays kneeling.

Purah shakes her head violently, crawling over to sit at the edge of the table nearest to the Princess.

“On the contrary! After the Queen passed away, His Majesty made it his lifes work to study the symptoms and effects of the sickness she was plagued with. He was the one to discover that it constituted a transfer of power from a celestial entity into a physical form.”

“And that’s why she died.” Zelda finishes, her eyes downcast.

“Most likely...” Purah answers. “But his research made it so that your future ancestors knew what to expect. No other incarnation has died because of the power transfer, although a few have come close.”

Link sucks in a breath, relief momentarily flooding through his chest. Zelda wouldn’t die, that much he knew for certain. But they were still left with so many questions.

He pushes himself up to stand, keeping his hand on Zelda’s shoulder.

“Does it say _why_ this happens? What connection there may be?”

“And how to control it?” Zelda interjects.

Purah holds her hands up, bombarded with questions.

“Symin and I haven’t gotten that far yet. But – we may have found a pattern to explain its appearance.”

Link’s spine stiffens, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Zelda sit straighter in her chair – back arched.

At their matching expectant stares, Purah suddenly goes quiet. She wrings her hands anxiously and her eyes dart up and away from their gazes.

“Purah!” Zelda all but shrieks, “What is it? What’s the pattern?”

Links hand involuntarily tightens on her shoulder, whether from nerves or out of comfort he isn’t sure the cause. There’s a pit in the middle of his stomach at Purah’s evading eyes – and he isn’t sure he wants to hear the answer. But it’s too late for him to say so as Purah clears her throat and says very quietly but clearly –

“The Hero is. Link is the pattern that causes the appearance of the Goddess Sickness.”

His hand slips off of Zelda’s shoulder to immediately be run through his hair. The Princess is unearthly still in her seat, and Link spares a glance in her direction, fingers still pulling at his scalp.

“What does that mean, exactly?” She lilts, her voice void of any emotion that may give her away. She sounds as if she’s trying simply to figure out a particularly puzzling scientific theory – rather than hearing her fate has now been even more invariably tied to the young man standing next to her. Link wants to scream.

Purah gains some confidence, and leans in.

“Well – every instance that this ‘goddess sickness’ is mentioned by your following ancestors, it’s always after a very specific event.”

Zelda simply arches a brow, silently urging Purah to continue.

The young sheikah kicks her legs as they dangle off the edge of the table, dragging out the inevitable.

“From what Symin and I can gather it has only ever manifested after, well – uhm...” Purah’s cheeks tint pink, “some form of unification. In some cases it was simply a reunion with The Hero, for others it was a marriage. Even an admission of love or the simple realization of affection could trigger it.”

“And if –“ Link clears his throat, “those things didn’t happen?”

Purah nods, pushing her glasses up her nose. “The sickness never occurred. We found no record of it from a pair of your ancestors – when the Hero of Time married someone else, and all memory of Zelda was erased, she did not suffer the transfer of power.”

Link wants to vomit. To think for decades, centuries, millenia – he has been the cause of Zelda’s suffering. He isn’t sure what kind of sick game Hylia is playing, but for the Goddess’ chosen he certainly doesn’t feel blessed. He is ashamed of his actions over these last couple of weeks, allowing his emotions to get the better of him. He is so lost in his own wallowing that he barely registers as Zelda pushes her hair behind her shoulder and abruptly stands, her chair teetering dangerously on it’s back legs before she reaches out to steady it.

“Thank you Purah, for your observations. If you wouldn’t mind I should like to take the book with me.”

Purah obliges, and with her chin in the air and the large volume in her arms Zelda sweeps out of the lab. Link thanks the tiny scientist before him with choked words and swiftly follows on Zelda’s heels – helping to saddle the book to Epona’s pack.

Their ride back to the house is silent, and Link tries to keep his distance – holding the reigns lightly and leaning forward as far as possible. Zelda’s grip is nearly painful as her fingertips dig in to his sides. When they reach the bridge he spurs his horse faster, and as they cross the lawn to the small stable Zelda is fumbling off the saddle and storming into the house. Link swallows. He has seen this Zelda before – all fury and anger – and he steels himself for the harsh words and hateful gaze that will no doubt be cast his way. He takes his time unsaddling Epona, leading her into the stable and patting her mane affectionately.

He enters his home, and Zelda stands with her back to the door – her shoulders shaking with the force of her breathing. Link does the only thing he can think to do. He can no longer lie to the Princess before him, it isn’t fair to her.

“Princess...” he says, and Zelda spins to look at him so quickly he’s sure her vision must blur. Her shocked expression quickly melds into a furious one at hearing the use of her title – but he does not allow her a response. He kneels, as he had one hundred years before, and begs.

“Forgive me.”

He lowers his eyes, focusing on a singular spot on the floor, and waits. He can hear her heaving breath, a mixture of strain and anger no doubt. Her voice is strangled when she replies.

“What could you possibly be asking forgiveness for?”

Link finds he cannot meet her eye. He fears he will not be able to handle the fury of her gaze, and the thought sickens him. He wishes only to see the sunshine of her smile, and the knowledge of how much pain he will cause her threatens to choke him. He sighs.

“Oh for Hylia’s sake, look at me!” Zelda huffs furiously. Link cannot help but comply, and sees that her eyes are rimmed with red and glistening when he finally tears his gaze from the floor. He remains low, one knee digging into the hard surface of the wood. Zelda’s face crumples as soon as his eyes meet her own, and in a second she is on her knees before him – the fabric of her skirt and apron billowing out around her legs.

“Forgive you for what?” She asks, sadness lacing her speech.

“A great deal of things.” Link breathes. “For betraying my oath as your Knight. For breaching nearly all rules of etiquette. But most of all, for not having the strength or courage to tell you sooner...”

His own eyes begin to sting with tears, and he blinks rapidly to keep them at bay. One succeeds and rolls down the swell of his cheek. He grits his teeth. It does not escape Zelda’s notice, and her eyes follow it down the length of his face. She reaches out with a delicate finger to wipe it away at the edge of his jaw.

“Tell me.” She whispers, and it is not a request. She demands his honesty, and he shall give it freely. The thought makes his head spin.

“I love you.”

He keeps his eyes locked to hers. Her mouth opens, but no words come out and so he fills them with his own. His speech comes fast then, afraid that if he stops now he may never have the courage again.

“I love you. I know I’ve brought this suffering upon you because of my inability to contain my own feelings – and I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness but please, Zelda, forgive me.”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Do you truly love me?” Zelda asks, and her bottom lip quivers. “How can you? After all of my failures. You died because of me, lost all of your precious memories because of me, traversed this world alone because of me.”

Link shakes his head, a protest rising on his lips, but she reaches out and desperately cradles his face in her palms.

“No, listen to me. I have caused you much more suffering than you could ever cause me. There is nothing to forgive- especially with regards to your feelings.”

Link sighs, closing his eyes against the warmth of her hands.

“I have failed as your Knight.”

“And I failed as your Princess. Now the score is even, and perhaps we can just be us.”

Their conversation at the inn flashes across his mind. He laughs, although there is no humor in it.

“Just Zelda.”

She smiles, tucking a stray hair away from his face.

“And just Link.”

They sit for a moment in silence, exchanging soft smiles. The ache in Link’s chest has not entirely subsided, his innate desire to protect Zelda at war with the incredible fondness growing in his heart. How can he defend her from this evil when he himself has caused it? She should be furious with him, she should demand he keep his wretched affection to himself, denounce her own love and go on with her life unhindered by the Goddess’ unwanted gifts.

But she is still here, still smiling at him, still stroking his tear stained cheek. The mere notion of never having her love again terrifies him – and he knows he has lost the battle against his better judgement. By Hylia’s design, he prays, she will love him all her life.

Zelda’s hands finally fall from his face, twisting into her lap. She looks down at them, her fingers grasping at her skirt nervously.

“I do hope you know,” she whispers, cheeks flushing red, “that I love you too. I suppose I have for a long while now.”

Her voice is laced with a chuckle at the end, and his mouth lifts at the corner in response.

“We have wasted a lot of time...” He lilts, sighing when she looks at him in slight surprise. “A hundred years... gone.”

“Yes.” Zelda agrees. And hardly a breath passes before, “Will you make me wait longer?” passes her lips.

He answers with the crash of his mouth against hers. She lets out a small squeak in surprise before she is rising up on her knees to meet him in force. Her lips are soft, sweetened by the lingering honey from her tea at lunch – Link is dizzy with it. He gasps, fisting some of her hair at the back of her neck in his grasp to pull her closer still. She hums against him, her own hands tugging at the collar of his tunic.

He kisses her until neither can breathe, until their lips are swollen and their cheeks are flushed. It’s begun to darken outside the small home, and with great effort Link pulls himself out of her grasp and off the floor. Zelda follows, eager to keep her hands on him. There is no argument that night over sleeping arrangements, as Zelda pulls Link down onto the bed and over her body.

She fits perfectly against his chest, her lashes grazing his collarbone as they breathe into the darkness. He strokes a hand through her hair and across her face, dedicating each feature to memory. Zelda’s breathing begins to even out, a tell tale sign of her descent into sleep, and Link finds the courage to speak again.

“You asked me how I could love you...”

Zelda hums sleepily.

Link traces a finger across her brown, down her nose, over her cheek. He thinks back to the memories she left for him to find, how eventually he came to understand her love for him and his for her. How his endless slumber in the shrine of ressurection was plagued with nothing but the constant reel of their past lives, and the ache he felt upon awakening and not finding her there by his side. He would have done anything to see her again.

He places a kiss at the crown of her hair.

“How could I not?”

She does not respond, her chest rising slow and even. Link smiles against her hair as he settles more snuggly against the pillows. They will talk more in the morning, he thinks, but for now he lets the feeling of her body against his and the sound of restless crickets lull him to sleep.


	10. Gerudo Canyon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are moving along full speed ahead here my dear readers. There is so much left to tell - but I am so pumped for you to read it even more! This is most certainly a filler chapter, and I re-wrote it probably three times before I decided to call it good. More action packed things are coming I promise - but for now... enjoy!

* * *

“Incredible!” Zelda exclaims, crumbs bursting from her mouth. Her muffin is being unceremoniously shoved into her mouth at an alarming speed as she reads through the enormous tome of a book before her. She hears Link laugh and lifts her head to glare at him.

“What is?” He asks simply, pulling apart his own muffin with careful fingers. She watches him pop a small piece into his mouth, his fingertip grazing his lip as he does so. And oh, how she loves those hands. And Hylia curse him, now she’s gotten off track. She huffs quietly to herself and traces her finger to where she had stopped reading, picking up where she left off.

“According to the King’s research, each power Hylia bestows had some ancient connection to every race known to Hyrule.”

Link reaches across the table to clear her plate and stands, humming with interest as he crosses towards the countertop.

“The Zonai were the first,” she relays, “that’s where the sealing power must have originated. It’s the only Goddess given gift that my mother was ever aware of...”

“Was the..” Link falters, clearing his throat, “the _K_ _ing_ able to distinguish what powers are connected to each race?”

“Unfortunately not.” Zelda sighs, frustrated. She closes the book with a loud thump, pushing it away. “There is plenty of information about Hylia and the legend of her shedding her divinity but barely anything to explain this affliction.”

He comes to stand behind her, a comforting hand rubbing between her shoulder blades.

“Well... what now?”

She turns to him, his hand grazing across her shoulder with her movement.

“I suppose we should carry on with Impa’s task...” she hums, “we still need to visit the desert, and we’ve put that off for far too long already.”

Link rests his hand at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, his palm sending a wave of heat down the column of her throat. His thumb is pressed to her vein and her pulse jumps at the contact. The pad of his thumb lazily drags up and down, his callouses snagging ever so lightly on her smooth skin. She swallows, lips parted, and tries to gauge his emotion – but his face is blank, his eyes laser focused to where he watches his thumb stroke her exposed flesh.

“Is everything okay?” Zelda asks quietly. Link’s eyes snap up from where they had been boring a hole in her neck, and his shoulders slump somewhat at the register of her question. He shakes his head tersely, his lips in a tight line.

“Fine.” He answers, but his voice is tense and the faraway look to his eye has returned. Zelda shifts more fully towards him in her seat, hands gripping the back of her chair as she gazes up at him.

“Link,” she admonishes, “tell me what is wrong. Do you not want to travel with me?”

“No! no, that isn’t it.” He says, his eyes wide, “I – I just...”

His gaze falls from her face again, stopping on where his hand smoothes over the side of her throat. He steps closer, his torso pushing up against the back of her chair and knuckles. Zelda releases her grip in favor of pressing her hands on his lithe stomach. His eyes turn soft, and he lifts his other hand to splay it across the other side of her neck, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on her jaw.

“The last time we were in the desert,” He begins, swallowing so hard she can see his throat bob. “it... it almost didn’t end well.”

He lets out a puff of breath, closing his eyes.

“If I hadn’t gotten there in time...I would have lost you.”

“But you didn’t.”

His muscles tense underneath her hands, and she reaches for his wrists.

“Oh, Link. My valiant knight!” She recites theatrically. His eyes finally open, glaring at her angrily, and she giggles.

“It isn’t funny Zel. I can’t stand the thought of..” his sentence breaks, but Zelda hears the end anyways.

_I can’t stand the thought of losing you again._

“I just don’t want to put you in danger.” He relents.

“I will _always_ be in danger.” Zelda emphasizes. “It’s simply the nature of who I am. But for what it’s worth, I am infinitely more at ease with you by my side.”

“I will never let any harm befall you.” Link breathes, his voice assured. “...of which I can control, that is.” He adds a bit sadly, and Zelda knows he must be thinking of her powers. Her hands migrate to his elbows, and then higher until she is grasping at his biceps.

“I know,” she nods, and pushes herself up to kneel in her seat, now nose to nose with Link. She places a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, teasingly backing away when he shifts his head to follow her lips.

“Which is why we musn’t delay our trip to Gerudo Town any further!”

He groans, but lets her flee from his grasp as she spins off her chair and begins to gather some of her books and research notes off of the table.

“Perhaps they’ll have some answers for us.”

They spend the rest of the day packing, preparing meals for the road and washing their clothes. In the early hours of the next morning Epona and the horse lent to them by the Sheikah, whom Zelda has affectionately begun to call Buttercup, are saddled and ready for their journey. Link takes a quick hike up to Purah’s research lab before they begin their long trek, leaving the Sheikah slate in her capable hands. She thinks she can recalibrate the travel rune to transport two people instead of one, much to Zelda’s delight. For now though, he returns to Epona’s saddle and they head out of Hateno village at a steady trot, a comfortable silence hanging in the air between them.

Gerudo desert is a long ways away, nearly a weeks ride by Link’s estimate. They stick to the trails where they can, but his knack for finding shortcuts is an impressive trait, and they make it to the Gerudo Canyon stable in a little less than six days.

A young hylian woman greets Link warmly when they arrive, offering him a friendly deal on some elixir – and he waves her off with a smile. Hylia knows they’ve packed enough elixirs to last them two trips through the desert and back. Zelda had called him obsessive, Link had argued he was cautious.

He leads their horses to the front of the stable, a hand raised in greeting to the man behind the counter.

“Ho! Link! What a surprise! My, we haven’t seen you around these parts in a while. What brings you by?”

Link ducks his head a fraction in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hey there Piaffe. We’re on our way to Gerudo Town.”

“ _We_ eh? Whose we?” Piaffe ribs, arching an eyebrow. His eyes slide over to where Zelda stands, half obscured by Link’s shoulder. She takes the initiative to introduce herself on her own and steps forward to offer a hand, one which Piaffe takes warily. She is sure to maintain their careful lie.

“I’m Rayna, a pleasure to meet you.”

“Rayna...” He says, testing he weight of her name on his tongue. “The pleasure is all mine.” He doesn’t release her hand right away, his eyes narrowed with a hint of suspicion . Zelda’s palm begins to sweat, and for a single terrifying moment she thinks that Piaffe has called her bluff and recognized her for who she truly is. But then his eyes take on a mischievous glint, and he flicks his gaze to where Link stands.

“Now where have you been hiding a young lady this fair? I hope you haven’t given her too much trouble.” He jibes with a wink. The tips of Link’s ears tint pink, his eyes growing wide.

“Trouble?!” He scoffs, though his voice breaks a little. “When have I ever caused any trouble?!”

Piaffe fixes him with an incredulous look, and Link snaps his mouth shut with a click, grabbing Zelda by the shoulders.

“Board for two horses, and a bed for the night please.”

Piaffe wiggles his brow. “Just the one?”

Link simply levels him with a stare, all but slamming rupees on the counter and steering Zelda inside with a mock cheerful, “ _Thank you Piaffe!”_ much to the stable masters amusement.

Zelda bids farewell to him kindly, stifling a laugh behind her palm as she’s maneuvered into the stable. Link sets about unpacking their necessities for the night, laying out fresh bed clothes and extra blankets. She seats herself on the edge of the mattress, crossing her ankles ad she watches him. She soon lets her gaze wander, taking in the soft light of the lanters and the low hum of other travelers voices. There is a strange comfort to life on the road, she muses. Before the calamity, traveling to the springs had been her only escape from the daily life of the castle, and as much as she hated the never ending devotions, she relished the chance to be outside.

After Zelda’s reconciliation with her poor attitude towards Link, and after their friendship had begun to blossom, he had opened up to her about those same feelings. Being in nature had always had a calming effect on him, he had explained one night while they sat around a crackling fire – the days unfruitful prayers forgotten.

He had not grown up under the scrutinizing gazes of court, but his father had been a Captain of the Royal Guard – and a favorite of the late Queen. Zelda remembers Captain Forester with startling clarity, his eyes most especially. Her thoughts are interrupted by a soft voice.

“Something on your mind?”

Link has finished unpacking their things, and the curtain around their bed had been drawn. He moves to stand between her legs and brushes her long tresses over her shoulder with a gentle hand. Zelda blinks, looking over his face. His eyes are the same shocking shade of blue that his fathers’ had been – and a sudden pang of guilt churns her stomach. She doesn’t answer him immediately, and a crease forms between his brow.

“Zel?”

“Do you remember your father?” She asks suddenly, wringing her hands together. His face shifts, changing from concern to confusion.

“My father? I – Zelda why-?”

“Just tell me. Please.”

Link sighs, leaving the V of her legs to sit with his back against the small wooden headboard. He situates himself with both feet on the bed and opens his arms to silently beckon her to him. Zelda goes willingly, crawling the small expanse of space between them to settle herself between his legs, her back pressed to his chest and her head nestled comfortably beneath his chin. He envelops her in his arms, the warmth of his body seeping through her clothes.

“Cerelius Forester. Captain of the Royal Guard and personal Knight to the Hyrulian royal family. Died in battle during the seige of Akkala-“

His voice is flat, as if he’s reciting from a book instead of talking about his deceased father, and something sickening rises in Zelda’s throat.

“You _don’t_ remember him...do you?”

She can feel his chest rise as he takes a breath, his lips moving to press against her temple.

“No.” He mumbles against her skin. “Impa told me everything after I recovered the last memory you left for me. I still had...questions.”

Zelda bites her lip, attempting to force down the sting of grief crawling it’s way up her throat. She had tried once before to fill in the gaps of his memory – but only selfishly did she provide him with more information about the life that he had lived at her side with their friends and fellow champions. If their roles had been reversed and he had withheld precious memories of her forgotten father from her – well, she isn’t sure how he has ever forgiven her.

“I’m sorry.” She breathes, gripping at his arms where they are wrapped around her.

“Don’t be.” He soothes, squeezing her lightly. “I know everything I need to.”

“But don’t you miss them?” She whispers, her voice wobbling. He isn’t sure if she’s referring to his memories or his friends and family, so he answers for both.

“I do.” He responds, his breath hot on the shell of her ear. He presses a kiss there and Zelda lets out a shaky sigh.

“I do miss them. But I thank Hylia that I had the chance to avenge their sacrifice, and that I still have you.”

Zelda’s heart warms a bit at his words, but yet her chest still feels tight. She shifts in his arms to face him sideways, resting the side of her forehead against his. He noses at her cheek, a contented sigh escaping through his parted lips.

“After mother died, I knew my life was never going to be the same. Father was heartbroken, and although he had never been the most affectionate of parents... after she passed he was almost – cold. I didn’t want to disappoint him, and I knew I had to be strong for not only him but for the whole kingdom.”

Zelda chokes back the lump in her throat, steeling herself to continue as Link listens in silence.

“I detached myself from any connections that would distract me from my life’s purpose. Did you know-“ A bitter laugh rises from her chest, “-that I ignored Mipha’s friendship and kindness for the better part of a year?”

“What changed?” Link asks softly.

“Urbosa.” She gasps, tears stinging at her eyes. “Urbose taught me to let people in again.. that it was possible to be both strong and vulnerable. She was the closest thing I had to a mother, after...”

His hold on her tightens, and she shivers.

“I don’t know if I can face it.” She finishes, her voice breaking. A tear spills down her cheek and she turns away, hastily swiping the back of her hand across her face.

“How do I face her?”

He knows she isn’t talking about Riiju.

“Zelda...” Link strains, sympathy weaving through his tone. “You have confronted your greatest fears tenfold. You have faced an ancient evil, unlocked your sacred power _and_ saved your kingdom from the threshold of destruction...Urbosa is nothing but proud of you.”

A small sob wracks through her body, and she slumps against him – fisting a hand in his tunic. He rocks her slowly, rubbing up and down the length of her arm with one of his hands. She lets him soothe her for only a moment before she is pulling away, wiping at her nose and eyes. She hates to cry in front of him, though it has happened quite regularly, and he’s come to learn her tells of when she is through with being coddled and comforted.

Link releases her, her body still bracketed by his thighs but free of his arms.

“Come on then..” he coos, taking her with him as he slides off the bed, “let’s get some rest. It’s a long walk to the bazaar tomorrow.”

He hands her the pile of folded fabric that is her nightgown and turns to give her some privacy, closing the drapery behind him.

“Link?” She calls after him in a hushed tone. He parts the drapes just enough to poke his head through, his brows lifted in question. Zelda walks to the edge of the curtain, her face a mere hairsbreadth away from his own. His pupils dilate as she inches nearer, brushing her lips just barely across his. They part in anticipation, and she takes the opportunity he has given her to show her appreciation for his understanding.

She devours his mouth, swiping her tongue across the sharp point of his teeth and nipping at his bottom lip as she pulls away. He groans against her, one of his arms reaching through the curtain to grasp at her waist, pulling her closer. Her hips thrust forward involuntarily – briefly pressing against his pelvis, and the sudden friction makes her mind buzz. She catches herself before it can happen again, pressing a final kiss to his lips and then another to his chin as he pants for breath.

“Thank you.” She whispers, her own breathing ragged. He nods wordlessly and she pulls back, turning on her heel to get undressed. She hears the ruffle of the curtain closing and the frustrated grunt of breath that Link releases before his footsteps trail away. She smiles to herself as she pulls on her nightgown. She knows all of her teasing is unkind to him. Truly she should not aim to rile him up as she does, though she enjoys it immensely – she has a feeling she may be playing with fire.

She slides under the covers, snuggling against the bedsheets.

Link returns a short while later, a mild flush still evident on his cheeks. He changes into his sleeping shorts as Zelda feigns sleep, one eye cracked open just enough to watch as he pulls his Champions tunic over his head to reveal the toned planes of his back.

Playing with fire is dangerous indeed, she thinks, a small grin tugging at her lips.

But, they are in the desert after all.


	11. Kindred Spirit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooo boy. Life has been - well. I'm sure you all know. I would cite severe writers block, but really a LOT more than just that has contributed to the stall in this story. Writing is hard you guys, I'm just gonna come out and say it. Anyways - I had fun with this chapter at least! Riju is my second favorite secondary character to write, besides Sidon (so far!). Thank you guys for sticking with me, it really means a lot. I am back in the groove right now and will hopefully crank out some more chapters here in the next couple of months. In the meantime, ENJOY!

Legends say the Goddesses’ created the desert to test the strength and courage of those who dwelt in the land of Hylia. Those who dared to traverse its deadly expanse would be subject to the sweltering heat of day and the unforgiving chill of night – and if you made it through to the other side alive, you counted your blessings.

Zelda is currently cursing said Goddesses as another large lump of sand wedges its way into her sandal.

“I told you not to wear those.” Link brags, shifting their travel pack on his shoulders. He is drenched in sweat, his hair wet and plastered around his forehead. Zelda glares at him, digging a finger into the sole of her shoe.

“I thought it would be practical!” She huffs, hopping on one foot. Link chuckles, stopping in his trek to watch her over his shoulder. Sand pours out from the side of her sandal and she sighs with relief as she puts her foot down and continues on to catch up with him on the trail. He waits for her, a small teasing smile on his face, and reaches out a hand in offering when she approaches. Zelda sticks her tongue out at him, but takes his hand with a smile of her own anyway.

They have been travelling in the direction of Kara Kara Bazaar for nearly half an hour, and Link had made promises of chilled, juicy hydromelon and blessed shade in abundance once they get there. She quickens her pace, keeping with him step for step. Her riding pants stick uncomfortably to her thighs with sweat, and her back is soaked through the thin fabric of her blouse. They only trudge along in the sand for another mile and a half before Zelda can feel the cool air of the oasis breeze caressing her face.

“Oh, thank Hylia.” She sighs as she spots the inviting pool of water in the middle of the vast and endless sand. Link tugs on her hand, urging her faster.

“Come on,” he says eagerly, “the faster we get there the faster you can get changed.”

She hums in avid agreement, lightly squeezing his fingers. He had revealed to her before they had left the stable that her own set of Gerudo clothes would be her best adversary against the relentless heat – and that he could get them at a bargain while they rested at the bazaar.

Zelda knows better at this point than to ask, and so she had simply commented on how wonderful that would be and went about packing up the rest of their things. Now though, as they near the lone stone building at the edge of the water and Link shrugs his pack onto the ground – slipping his hand out of hers and throwing a quick “be right back!” over his shoulder as he begins to scale the side of the structure like a hightail lizard – Zelda really thinks she should have asked.

He is gone for barely more than five minutes before he is descending from the top on his glider, a small bundle of sheer fabric tucked under his belt. He leaps to the ground, kicking up a small clous of dust with a wild grin on his face, and swaggers over to where she stands at the base of the inn. He presents her the colorful handful of cloth with a slight bow and a glint in his eye.

“Your desert clothes, my lady.”

“Certainly this can’t be all of it!” Zelda scoffs, the silky garments slipping across her fingers as she takes it from his grasp. “I would be utterly indecent in this.”

Link barks a short laugh, placing his hands on his hips.

“Ah, watch your tongue. You haven’t yet seen me in mine.”

Zelda’s jaw drops open just short of being comical as Link winks salaciously at her and turns to saunter away, his gaze set on the Gerudo woman selling fresh hydromelon juice under a canopy. She huffs, ignoring the heat in her cheeks no longer being caused by the sun, and stalks towards the inn to change.

To his credit, the change of clothing does ease her discomfort greatly, and Zelda sighs in relief at the cool touch of silk on her skin. When she heads back outside, Link is perched near the edge of the pond on the far side of the oasis – two hydromelon juices at his side and a large grin on his face. He beckons her over with an overzealous display of waving the hydromelons in the air and Zelda shakes her head at his theatrics but jogs over to join him nonetheless.

They let their feet dangle in the water as they sip on their refreshments, and Zelda can feel her energy restored by each passing moment. She slurps up the last of her hydromelon and leans back on her palms, basking in the warm rays of the sun on her exposed skin and the cool breeze on her face.

Link, who had been recounting his battle with Vah Naboris to her just moments ago, goes suddenly quiet – and Zelda pops one eye open inquisitively.

His demeanor has shifted, his muscles tensed and a dark look in his eye. His gaze is intense and almost frightening, causing Zelda to shake out of her relaxed state and sit up straight – both eyes open now with barely concealed fear.

She can just barely keep her voice from shaking.

“What? What is it?”

Her ears twith, listening for any sound that may indicate a threat. The Yiga may still come for her yet, and after disregarding Link’s fears about returning to the desert in the first place she would be loathe to admit he may have been right. She twists her body towards his subconsciously, seeking the safety of his arms.

He reaches for her, but instead of the urgency she is expecting he grasps at her wrist with a genteel hand. His fingers skim her inner forearm with reverence and continue up, dancing along the bare expanse of her shoulder. He watches his own fingers as they trace down across her collarbone – daring to dip lower, lower, and-

“Link?”

Her breathy voice breaks him of his trance, his fingers halted just above her heart. He lifts his eyes from his fingers to her face, and his gaze is desperate – nearly ravenous.

He looks as though he is seconds away from ravaging her on the desert floor and a hot flush overcomes Zelda’s face at the realization of his expression.

His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, and Zelda follows its slow movement with her eyes and a faint yearning tugging at her core.

Link sits back, retracting his fingers from her chest and curling them into a tight fist at his side. His eyes screw shut as he clears his throat roughly.

“I...apologize. I don’t know what came over me.”

He swallows, trying desperately to regain his composure. To think he very nearly defiled the Princess of Hyrule against the sandy dunes of Gerudo Desert is enough to make his throat burn with shame. What was he?! A pre-pubescent boy with no self control? Evidently Zelda only had to show more skin than usual to reduce his brain to a scrambling mess. Hylia save him, this was going to be a long trip.

“It’s quiet alright.” She hums, with no hint of scandal in her voice. That is a relief to him at least, and the tension in his fist releases. He chances looking at her once more, briefly shielding his eyes from the sun. She’s sitting up straight now, her body leaning forward towards him.

“Was there something on me?” She asks innocently, her own hand mimicking the path his own fingers had taken.

“A bug or...?”

His eyes track her movements hungrily, her fingers slipping down the front of her blouse. His eyes snap up momentarily and he catches the smirk on her face before she has the chance to slip back into her clueless façade.

He squints at her accusingly.

“You’re teasing me.”

Her fingers freeze where they’ve been tracing a lazy pattern through the sweat on her chest, splaying across her collarbone in mock offense.

“Me? I would never. Such things are below a Pri-“

Link is suddenly a fraction from her face, his hand over her mouth, stifling the end of her words. She thrills at his nearness, overcome with the desire to be closer. But his features are not painted with passion, and his voice is deadly serious.

“Someone might hear you.” He warns, his fingertips squeezing lightly at her cheek. 

He raises his eyebrows at her, a silent question to make sure she understands his meaning, and she nods slowly as she reaches up with a delicate hand to peel his own away from her lips. 

He nods once back, satisfied, and leans away from her. The playfulness of mere moments ago is lost, and Link twists behind him to gather their things. 

He feels a slight regret swirling in his chest, as Zelda refuses to meet his eye when he stands and offers her his hand, but her safety has always been his first priority - and unfortunately for his sanity, the princess has always lacked a sense of self preservation. 

They slip out of the bazaar unnoticed, the sun just beginning its descent. Traveling to Gerudo Town in the early hours of dusk has always been his preference, but with the risk of danger still out there and the deathly chill of night looming over them he lengthens his stride. Zelda struggles to keep up, stumbling once or twice when her sandal presses too deep into the sand, but she does not complain - and so he urges her on wordlessly. 

They reach the entrance of Gerudo Town just before the sun has finally set, and Zelda wraps the cloak he had given her halfway through their journey tighter around her shoulders. She stops abruptly when Link veers off the trail, heading for the shrine off to the side of the East gates. 

“Where are you going?!” She whispers, just loud enough for him to hear. 

He points towards the shrine, then to himself, tugging on the front of his tunic. She catches his intention, and nods in his direction while she wrings her hands in the fabric of her cloak. He slips behind the shrine easily, out of view of the two Gerudo warriors standing guard, and starts to strip. 

He winces as the cold night air stings his skin, replacing his trousers and boots for the silky vai outfit hastily crammed in his travel pack. He clips the veil in place last, pulling an extra cloak around his shoulders to drive out the chill. When he emerges again from behind the shrine Zelda’s eyes grow to the size of saucers, watching him intently as he approaches. 

Her eyes crinkle with barely disguised delight as he gets closer, and Link can tell she is resisting the urge to tease him relentlessly. He figures he’ll make it easier for her, and cocks out a hip. 

“Something funny?” 

She scowls slightly, but her eyes are still alight with amusement when she steps forward to drag a finger down his bare abdomen. 

“Whatever would give you that idea?” 

He steps closer, pitching his voice low so that only she can hear and reveling in the way she shivers at his closeness. 

“You forget yourself, Your Grace. We are amongst prying eyes” 

Zelda instantly snaps to attention, her finger recoiling from his skin. Her head swivels slightly to the side and he sees the way her eyes shift towards the two guards posted at the front entrance to town. Before she can perjure them any further, he turns towards the entrance and levels a confident stare at the guards as they pass by. They nod in his general direction, and chances are they had recognized him - Buliara had taken the liberty of introducing him to nearly every warrior at her disposal once Vah Naboris had been appeased - but he wasn’t taking any risks. Zelda tips her hood back once they breach the entrance. 

Her voice is flighty, nervous. 

“Where are we going?” 

“To see Riju” 

“Right now?!” She hisses, her emerald eyes flicking around rapidly. 

Link stops her with a hand on her elbow, forcing her to face him. He points a finger towards the steps that lead to Riju’s throne room, and her eyes follow it slowly. 

“She’ll be up there. Take your time, speak with conviction, and don’t let Buliara bully you.” 

Her head snaps towards him. 

“You’re not coming with me?” 

Link shakes his head, squeezing lightly at her arm. 

“This is your conversation to have, Princess. Not mine. Riju is much more understanding than King Dorephan, you won’t have any trouble.” 

Zelda’s lip wobbles slightly, and he can see the breathe she takes to counter his argument. He beats her to it. 

“She’s young, Zelda. Younger than you or I... and she needs guidance I can’t provide. She needs another monarch, another ally. She needs _you._ ” 

Zelda swallows, her eyes still shifting with anxiety. He can sense what she is about to say before it even leaves her lips. 

“What if she hates me?” She whispers, her fingers twisting around her cloak. 

Link so badly wants to reach out and soothe her, to smooth out the nervous creases near her mouth with his fingers and chase away her fear with his lips. But they stand as two Vai in the center of town, and he can already feel the slightly suspicious looks they are attracting by standing so intimately close. He shakes his head. 

“She won’t.” He rasps, “She can’t. She’s Urbosa’s descendant, and an orphan. She’s had to figure out everything on her own. Many of her people still don’t believe in her ability to rule...” 

He leaves his speech open ended, as he sees his words settle in Zelda’s mind. She and the young Chieftess are nearly one and the same, forged by common expectations and driven by their duty to others. Zelda’s eyes glisten when she looks up at him, nodding sadly. He smiles at her reassuringly, and she finally turns away to make the ascent to the throne room. Link watches her disappear under the shadow of the archway, and then stalks off in the direction of Isha’s shop. 

* * *

Riju is barely awake on her seat when Zelda comes into view. The sun is setting prettily behind her, a golden glow encasing her body and Riju immediately brightens, lifting her head from its perch on her hand to watch the familiar blonde cross the threshold. A sudden aching throbs in her ribcage and the chieftess furrows her brow, prodding at the feeling. There is a kismet connection pulling her forward and off of her throne before she can stop herself, and the young Princess in front of her startles backwards when she meets her toe to toe. 

She is scared, apprehensive, and fragile. Riju smiles and ticks her head sideways - maintaining eye contact with the sunlit girl in front of her. 

“Buliara! The Hylian Princess is finally freed. And she’s decided to honor us with her presence.” 

Her guard huffs, tapping her spear gently on the stone floor. Riju watches as Zelda’s expression morphs into one of determination, and she smiles again. 

“Chieftess Riju,” She says, bowing her head reverently, “Sav’saaba. It is true, I have been freed and the Calamity vanquished with the aid of Hylia’s Hero. I have come to share the news, and to discuss the future of Hyrule.” 

Zelda lifts her head, still tipping downwards to keep her eyes level with the small Gerudo girl. Riju has yet to respond, still smiling at her as if she knows something Zelda does not, and it makes her fidget where she stands. She tries again, remembering Links advice. 

“With the Calamity gone and much of the Kingdom still in disrepair it is by the preference of my most trusted advisor that-“ 

“Princess Zelda!” Riju interjects, her hands flying up to grip Zelda roughly by the shoulders. “My friend, Sav’saaba, take a breath. You have traveled a long way, have you not?” 

Zelda is stunned into silence, only able to bobble her head in answer. 

“Let us retire to my private room.”

Riju pulls her down until she is slightly bent at the knees, and whispers close to her ear.

“There we can discuss matters without my guards present.” 

Riju releases her, and motions for her to follow as she leads Zelda farther into the sandstone palace. Her private study room does not have a door, but a cloth and bead curtain is apparently enough privacy for the young Chieftess as she rounds on Zelda before they are barely across the threshold. She is dragging her down onto the cushioned floor before the Princess has a chance to protest and throwing a plush blanket over their laps. 

“It is truly a joy to see you, Your Highness. I know you must think me rash and forceful, but Urbosa’s spirit is so tied to you that I can hardly help myself!” 

Zelda’s face goes ghostly white at her words, and she reaches out to grasp at Riju’s hand with clammy fingers. 

“Urbosa’s spirit? You can sense her?” 

“Not entirely.” Riju admits, overlapping her hand atop the Princesses own. “I can feel her will, when it is strong, and her connections to this land and it’s people. But very rarely do I experience a pull so forecefully as I do to you.” 

Zelda seems to understand, and nods sadly. Riju squeezes her fingers and desperately tries to lift her mood. 

“Tell me of your travels! And of the defeat of the Calamity! I love tales of adventure, I hardly have any of my own.” 

It works, albeit slowly at first, as Zelda recounts the final battle with Ganon. Link had fought valiantly with the aid of the divine beasts, and to hear of their combined bravery makes Riju’s eyes water. A long while passes before the Princess reaches the events of her birthday, and her speech suddenly becomes stilted and slow. She describes the beautiful surprise orchestrated by her Knight in glittering detail, but stops all together at the height of her story. 

Riju pops up from where she has been laying across a scattering of pillows, affronted at the break in Zelda’s narrative. 

“Surely that isn’t the end! You were dancing aaaaand?” 

Zelda shakes her head, sweat suddenly beading on her forehead. 

“That was all. It was lovely, and everyone had a delightful time. We went to Hateno Village quite soon afterwards, and we’ve been staying in Link’s home since.” 

“Oh what a bunch of blubbering sandseal snot!” Riju squeals, forcefully hugging a pillow to her middle. Zelda’s cheeks flame red and the young chieftess narrows her eyes. “He kissed you, didn’t he?!” 

“What?! N-no!” Zelda splutters, even as Riju rolls her eyes in disbelief. Her chest is tight with panic. If Impa knew she had nearly disclosed the nature of hers and Link’s relationship with the Gerudo ruler she would surely drop dead. She _had_ nearly dropped dead when Purah had written to her to explain the consequences of the Goddess Sickness in further detail. Impa’s response had been contrite and unwavering. None of the rulers of the four regions need know the full extent of their intimacy, for it would only tarnish her reputation before it began. When she was Queen, Impa wrote, their relationship would be made known and all proper steps taken. 

Zelda sighs at the hopeful gleam in Riju’s eyes. Urbosa had been more than just an ally... she had been a friend, a confidant, a mother. What same trust could she expect from her descendant? 

“I fell ill...” she breathes, avoiding the Chieftess’ eyes. “Link nursed me back to health, and I owe him a great debt for that. He has done more for me than I have ever done for him.” 

There is a long silence, so long that Zelda nearly jumps at the sound of Riju’s voice when she speaks again. 

“Oh how wrong you are, Princess. Your Knight spent many long days here in my palace, and I know from his own words that the only thing that kept him going was you.” 

Riju looks wistful when Zelda lifts her head, listening to the young girls voice mix with the sound of the crickets outside. 

“I know there are things you cannot tell me...” she smirks, “but I can tell your affection for him matches his own for you. And I wish you every happiness. I would be most glad, as well, to help you both in any way I can. The Gerudo have and always will be your ally.” 

Zelda’s smile is small and private when she reaches out to grasp at Riju’s hands, and the young ruler meets her halfway. 

She leaves their meeting a short while later, wiping wetness from her eyes as she descends the steps of the palace. Link is waiting for her at the bottom of the steps, a knowing grin spread across his lips. 

She desperately wants to fall into the comfort of his arms, but she holds herself firm and greets him with a tilt of her head. 

They start in the direction of the inn, agreeing wordlessly to take separate beds, and settle in for the night. 

In the space between their mattresses, Link whispers to her after their candles have been put out and the innkeeper has retired for the night. 

“How did it go?” 

Zelda rolls towards him in the dark. 

“Very well. Riju is an interesting young woman.” 

She can hear him snort lightly through his nose, shifting under the blankets. 

“Yes. That’s one word for it.” 

“Well, how would _you_ describe her then?” She asks. 

“Eccentric, prying, nosey-“ He answers, intent on carrying on. 

Zelda huffs a quiet laugh. “Oh, stop. She is kind and curious. Besides, she has agreed to become Ambassador to her people under our new council. I would add selfless to that lis of yours.”

There is the soft rustling of fabric beside her, and then a hand is brushing against hers where it hangs out from underneath her blanket and she blinks in what she thinks is the general direction of Link’s face. His fingers just barely intertwine with hers. 

“Yes, I would.” He whispers, and Zelda gets the distinct impression that he is no longer talking about the Chieftess. 

She smiles to herself, brushing her fingertips along what little of his hand she can reach. 

“Goodnight, Link.” She sighs, her eyelids finally drooping under the weight of her exhaustion. She is near sleep when Link’s voice, low and slurred with his own fatigue, carries across the expanse of their beds. 

“Love you, Zel.” Spoken so quietly that she isn’t sure she was even meant to hear it. 

Zelda sighs contentedly, and thinks that Riju may be wise beyond her years. 


	12. A Barrier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for....DRAMA. (At this point it should be expected, I love to mix in that angst ya know?) This is probably one of the longest chapters I've posted - I just couldn't stop myself. Enjoy!!

* * *

Hateno is just as they left it, and Zelda revels in the comforting bustle of people going about their daily tasks in town. The height of summer has come and gone and they are well past the weeks of Autumn, but Zelda still finds herself shedding her outer layers as she helps Link dig rows in the soil of the garden. 

Despite the slight chill in the air, he works in nothing but a short sleeved tunic - a little too short and nearly threadbare. A sheen of sweat coats his arms and the column of his throat as he hacks and pulls at the weeds littering the side of the house. Zelda watches him for a moment, admiring the strain of his muscles underneath the thin fabric of his shirt and delighting in the short strained grunts he releases on every swing. 

The wind whips her hair forward into her face, and she pushes it back in irritation. 

He comes to stand next to her where she is kneeling in the soil and wipes a gloved hand across his glistening forehead. Zelda stares up at him, strands of her hair sticking annoyingly to the sweat on her face and neck. 

His shirt hitches up higher when he lifts an arm to push his bangs out of his face, and Zelda makes a grab for the dagger hanging loosely at his hip, her fingers grazing bare skin. 

“Woah, Hey - What are you doing?!” 

Zelda’s hand stills at the base of her neck, the cold metal of the blade poised underneath the cascade of blonde hair pulled taut in her grip. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She snaps, a bead of sweat rolling lazily down her temple. 

Link blanches, his mouth hung open, and Zelda takes the opportunity of his confusion to lift the blade upwards forcefully, slicing through layer after layer of golden thread. She sighs in relief when the ends of her hair tickle at the back of her neck, and she smiles innocently up at her Knight as she presents him her fistful of hair. 

He is pale as snow. 

“Impa’s gonna kill me” He whimpers, all but collapsing to his knees next to her in the dirt. 

“Oh nonsense.” Zelda scoffs, tucking her bundle of hair into the pocket of her apron. 

“It’s only hair. Besides, all it did was get in the way.” 

Link stares at her, his eyes shifting between her face and her hair. He seems to contemplate her words for a moment, the color returning to his face slowly. He takes a deep sigh before reaching out to flick at the ends of her shortened hair. 

“Do you not like it?” She whispers, suddenly afraid. 

He immediately grasps at the back of her neck, dragging himself closer through the soil. 

“It looks beautiful.” He says, “You always are...” 

his eyes are soft and sincere, and Zelda colors at his openness. She leaps forward to wrap her arms around his neck, pressing her lips against the skin of his shoulder and tasting the salt of his sweat. 

He chuckles shortly as he stumbles backwards under her weight, wrapping his arms around her middle just as tightly. 

“Although...” He begins, his fingers threading through her strands, “you did miss a few places.” 

She snorts a laugh into his neck, never once loosening her grip. 

“Help me fix it?” 

“Come on then, inside.” He prods, helping her stand. Zelda futilely tries to wipe the dirt from her dress as Link brushes soil off of his own trousers. He turns to pick up the gardening tools, tossing them into a canvas bag. She tsks as she notices a particularly stubborn dirt splotch on her apron, scraping at it with a nail. 

“These will definitely need a wash.” She comments to no one in particular. 

“You missed a spot.” She hears Link say, and when she lifts her head to ask where, she spots a mound of dampened soil in his fist and a wicked grin spread across his face. 

“Don’t. You. _Dare._ ” Zelda warns, her voice pitching low. She starts to back up towards the house, but he matches her footsteps, and she watches in belated horror as his arm reels back. She screeches and lifts her arms near her face to block the onslaught of mud - but it never comes. 

Zelda peeks her eyes open, arms still raised in defense, and sees nothing but blinding light arced across her vision. 

Her pulse starts to race, and she lowers her arms slowly. When she takes a full look, she can see the end of the light, encasing her body and the few feet of space in front of her - blocking Link just beyond. The splotch of dirt he had flung in her direction is dripping slowly to the ground. 

She can see his mouth moving, but the only thing she can hear is the sound of her own breathing - coming quicker and quicker by the second. She grips tightly at her arms, willing herself not to shake. She watches, eyes wide with fear, as Link steps forward and bangs a fist against the solid force field of her light. She can just make out the formation of her name on his lips and the desperate look in his eye, and she gasps in a shuddering breath. When she squeezes her eyes shut, it is as if the world suddenly explodes around her. She can feel the wind on her face again, hear the birds chirping and the gentle rushing of water below her feet. 

She gasps again and opens her eyes just in time to see Link running towards her, manic. 

“Zelda! Are you alright?” He asks, panic shaking his speech. He’s looking over every inch of her body, his hands firmly over her own where they still have a vice grip on her arms. “What was that...” he mumbles, mostly to himself rather than as a genuine question to her - for which Zelda is grateful. She’s not sure she would have an answer. 

“Yes. Yes, I-I’m fine. I don’t know what....” 

She’s shaking again, but not from the chill. She notices, quiet to her own terror, that her skin is actually extremely warm - and she glances down to find her hands and arms glowing with white light. 

“The...the goddess” she manages, finally lifting her hands away from her body. “I think it’s another gift...a different power.” 

Link releases a breath he must have been holding, and runs a hand through his hair. 

He regards her cautiously, his eyes flicking nervously around her glowing appendages. 

“And you’re sure you’re alright?” 

Zelda considers this. She doesn’t feel lightheaded, and besides the heat accompanying the streams of light exiting her body, she actually feels rather good. 

She sends him a confident smile and a nod, watching with hesitant intrigue as the triforce pulses with warmth and light once more before faltering out completely. She takes his hand to drag him indoors, the idea of research and experimentation overcoming her.

He follows her willingly, still stealing apprehensive glances her way as he sits her down in front of the fireplace and takes a clean set of shears to her uneven locks.

The task of her haircut out of the way, Zelda gathers her materials and notes and makes to sweep back outside while Link mumbles something about making lunch. 

She kisses him lightly on the mouth amidst her whirlwind of activity and closes the front door firmly behind her on her way out, nearly dropping her papers and losing them to the wind. 

She plops herself on the grass and hefts the History of Hyrule open in her lap, scrawling notes feverishly as her eyes rove over each and every word. She loses track of time, until Link approaches her with a steaming plate and the delicious aroma of herbs and spices drifting through the air around her. He crouches beside her, setting her food on the ground next to her. 

“Hungry?” He asks, a knowing grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He knows how sucked in to her research she can get, forgetting to eat or drink, or even more concerning - losing sleep and forgetting to bathe. He crinkles his nose at the memory of the week long absence of hygiene she had displayed when she had come across a particularly enlightening passage of text. When he had approached her on the subject, she had begged for a little more time - convinced that she was on the cusp of a breakthrough. He had nearly had to drag her off her chair, resorting to carrying her over his shoulder and down the hill to the pond while she kicked and punched futilely at his back. It had only taken until he had divested himself of his tunic and trousers at the bank and waded into the water himself for her to cease her begrudged attitude. 

She had nearly leapt into the water then, scrambling to undress herself, and his cheeks flush at the memory of her sun warmed and water slick skin against his - the insistent press of her hands and mouth and how easily she had almost brought him to his knees in the shallow water. She had always made it a point to keep up on her bathing habits after that. 

He blinks back to reality, noticing that Zelda’s made no response or moved to take her food. She frowns down at her notes, tapping the pencil against her bottom lip. 

“I just don’t understand...” she muses out loud, and Link shifts closer, settling down next to her and stretching a leg out as he takes a bite of his rice ball. 

“If the sealing power was connected to the people of the Zonai, then what race is responsible for..... for a light.... barrier?” 

“mmhhfffmm” Link tries, and Zelda lifts her gaze from the book to finally look at him. He swallows, wiping a hand across his mouth. “Daruk’s protection” He repeats, and Zelda’s eyebrows lift. 

“The Goron! Of course!” She gasps, elated. Her eyes light up as she connects the dots. “Daruk was able to control his protective abilities - manifest them whenever he chose, not just when in danger...” 

She trails off, standing abruptly and trudging a short distance away. 

He watches her as she takes a deep breath, extending her arms in front of her and screwing her eyes shut in concentration. Nothing happens at first, and she huffs in frustration as she lets her arms fall limply to her sides. 

Link stands, brushing grass off of his trousers and crossing his arms with a fond smile as he watches her try again, a determined scrunch to her nose. 

A blur of light suffuses around her, barely there and flickering unsteadily. He watches with widening eyes as it bounces in and out of existence, growing larger each time. 

“Uh, Zel...” he starts, her eyes snapping open at the sound of his voice. 

She’s out of breath, her chest heaving. 

“It’s working!” She shouts, “I just need more practice!” 

She takes another prepared breath and resumes her stance. 

“Just be careful!” Link yells back, just in time to watch a solid field of golden light encase her body closely. He watches as Zelda takes another breath through her nose, her fingertips extending, and the barrier grows. There is a small and proud smile spreading across her face and when she drops her arms and the force field evaporates he can hear her delighted laugh carry through the wind towards him. 

She lifts her arms again, and the light returns, ten feet away from him. 

She drops her arms and the light eases. 

She lifts, the barrier returns, five feet away. 

She drops her arms. 

She lifts, the barrier returns, and Link has to take a step backwards to avoid its edge. He glances over his shoulder, taking in the edge of the hill only footsteps away.

She lifts. 

“Zelda, WAIT!” 

The barrier returns, slamming against his abdomen with brutal force. His panicked tone alerts her, and Zelda’s eyes open just in time to watch as the light slams into his body, lifting his feet off the ground and sending him sailing through the air and over the edge of the cliff. 

She screams, her voice breaking as she rushes forward down the side of the hill. She grasps the fabric of her dress and apron, running as fast as her feet will take her and stumbling slightly as she reaches the bottom of the slope. She finds him by the edge of the pond, limp on his side and too close to a gathering of stones. 

Her legs feel like lead as they bring her to his side, her knees hitting the ground so hard that her teeth clack together. 

“Link....Link!” Her voice trembles, and with shaking hands she rolls him over onto his back. 

He does not stir, and Zelda notices the large gash oozing blood over his brow. His bangs are stained red, smearing across his forehead and Zelda chokes back a sob. 

“No, oh Godesses _nononono”_

Her hands are slipping against his cheeks, slick with blood, and she pats her palms against his face desperately. “Please wake up. Please, please!” 

Link makes a pained groan, the eye unmarred by blood cracking open and finding Zelda’s tear stained face hovering above him. She gasps, relief flowing through her, and bends to press her forehead against his - uncaring of the mess. 

“Oh thank Hylia.” She whispers, cradling his head. “You’re okay.” 

He grunts in response, and she leans back to allow him room to sit up. She helps him with a gentle hand on his back, steadying him when he sways. The gash on his head is still bleeding slowly, and she quickly shoves a shoulder under his armpit and wraps her arm around his back. 

“Can you stand?” She asks, shifting her weight to bear his own. 

He nods, pushing off the ground with his free arm and settling against her side. 

She steps forward and he follows, suddenly shouting out in pain. 

“Link?!” 

He’s panting, sweat mixing with the blood on his forehead. 

“My leg. I think my leg’s broken.” He winces, placing his foot down and applying pressure. He immediately cries out again, grinding his teeth together. “I can’t... I won’t be able to make it up to the house.” 

Zelda begins to run through their options in her mind. 

Leave Link here and go for help? How would she explain his fall? He’s too well known around town for his adept adventurous nature for it to be believable as an accident. 

Run up to the house and brew a healing elixir? She can’t remember the ingredients to one off the top of her head and the time it would take to possibly search through Links journal to find a recipe and gather the necessary materials would take far too long.

She briefly thinks about running up to the lab to find Purah or Symin, but the sun has already begun its slow decent into the horizon and she shivers at the thought of leaving him alone down here in the dark and cold while bleeding from the head.

She huffs, indignant, and starts to lower him back down to the ground. He shoots her a questioning look as she props him up against a large boulder. 

“Try not to move.” She mumbles, untying her apron from around her waist and pressing it against his wound. He hisses through his teeth, blinking at her slowly. 

“I don’t think that’ll be much of a problem.” He slurs, taking the apron cloth from her and holding it to his head as she stands. 

Zelda scans the surrounding area, hands on her hips as her eyes finally fall on a few fallen branches from the tree on the other side of the pond. She snaps her fingers, jogging over and scooping up two of the biggest pieces of debris she can find and making her way back to where Link has started to slump against the rock, his eyes fluttering closed. 

She crouches beside him, laying each piece of wood along the side of his injured leg and ripping a strip of fabric off the hem of her dress with her teeth. She pats him lightly on the cheek, and he straightens, albeit slightly. He’s lost too much blood, she realizes. Zelda takes back the blood soaked apron from his hands, folding it to a clean spot and holding it out to him. 

“Stay awake, darling. And bite down on this.” 

He smiles goofily at her endearment, but listens to her and obediently stuffs the cloth in his mouth. 

Zelda works as quickly as she can, straddling his leg and pressing the branches against his broken bone with her thighs. She lifts his leg at the knee, wrapping her torn fabric around the makeshift splint tightly. 

Link let’s out a soft whimper of pain as she finishes, tying a knot with deft fingers. 

It’s not a perfect job, but Zelda reasons it will at least get him up the hill and into the warmth of the house. They’ve both begun to shiver now, the sun rapidly sinking in the sky, taking its heat with it. 

He spits her apron out of his mouth, leaving it on the ground as she once again slides a shoulder under his arm. 

She bears as much of his weight as possible, encouraging him to put as little pressure on his broken leg as he can as they hobble painstakingly slow towards the house. Link gasps in pain the whole way, Zelda cooing and shushing him in comfort and sympathy. 

When they finally make it inside, the moon is high in the sky, and the house is dark and cold. 

Zelda helps him limp towards the chair near the fireplace, sprinting up the stairs to the loft to gather pillows to prop up his injured leg. She starts a fire and rushes for a clean rag, dragging over a bucket of water and bandages. Link is filthy and covered in blood, dark and crusted over his eye and in his hair. She can only give thanks that his wound has finally stopped bleeding. 

She cleans and sanitizes the gash as best she can, mindful of when he winces in pain or shifts away from her touch. It’s getting harder and harder for him to keep his eyes open, and just nearly as Zelda is finished wrapping the bandage around his head, he promptly loses consciousness. 

* * *

Link wakes a short while later to find a fire roaring at his feet and a blanket thrown haphazardly across his lap. 

He also wakes to find the house empty, and startles close enough to forget his current state of circumstance, nearly pushing himself out of his chair until the slight pressure on his foot has him gasping for breath and collapsing back into his seat. 

It’s dark outside, and Zelda is gone. Rationally he knows she has most likely gone for help, and that she’s in no real danger on her way to Purah’s lab - but his mind runs astray with every singular possibility in which he isn’t there to protect her, and he panics. 

His eyes appraise the room, taking into account every possible item he could use to propel himself towards the door and out towards the stable. If he can just get to Epona... 

His broken leg is throbbing, and his head feels as though it’s splitting in two - but he hefts himself up anyway, careful this time to balance his weight on his un-injured leg. He hops clumsily to the fireplace, latching on to the mantle with shaking fingers and taking a moment to catch his breath. His vision is slightly blurry and the swelling above his eye is forcing his lid near shut. 

Zelda’s left the door unlatched, thank Hylia - most likely in her haste to get help. Link leans and stretches to reach the iron poker settled against the stone of the fireplace, grasping it in his hand as a makeshift walking stick. With one hand still clinging to the mantle and the other on the poker, he drags himself forward. 

His leg throbs at every jostle of movement, and he grits his teeth against the pain. The pointed edge of the poker scrapes against the floor as he moves, squeaking in protest. He gets to the edge of the mantle, a huff of determination rising in his chest. He’s only a few steps from the door, but the distance feels like an uncrossable chasm in front of him. 

Bending his leg as much as the branches tied around it will allow, he hops towards his destination with the aid of his metal assistant. His bum leg almost throws him off balance as he launches himself towards the door, reaching desperately for the handle. He’s sweating both from pain and effort but he twists the latch of the door with as much strength as he can muster and to his grateful surprise it opens easily. 

The cold night air brushes past him, causing him to shiver. Leaning his weight on the poker he trudges onward and over the threshold, it’s end sinking into the damp earth. Link can barely see past the edge of the bridge, nor any sign of Zelda’s return and he steels himself, letting the chill settle onto his skin and renew his motivation. When he twists to face the stable, dark and covered by the winter tarps, he groans. 

The distance is massive. He’ll never be able to make it over without injuring himself further. But the thought of Zelda, wandering alone towards the lab and distraught beyond measure, makes him more determined than ever. He hops once, forcing the poker into the ground and steadying himself. 

He hops once more, the pointed edge driving deep into the soil with the force of his weight. 

And again. The metals vibration reverberating through his arm on every impact. He takes a lungful of freezing air and rests his leg down, exhausted. 

The wind howls by, twisting his hair around his face and pushing him slightly off kilter. Link scrambles, one arm flung out straight to bring himself back to balance - but it’s too late. 

His foot presses against the ground, bone scraping against bone, and he screams as his leg gives out and he buckles under his weight. The sweat on his brow is starting to freeze, and his vision swims when he tries to push himself up. The pain is making him nauseous, radiating spikes pulsing up and down his leg and across his forehead. He coughs, forcing himself not to wretch, and thinks of a plan. 

The stable is close, a mere ten feet if his depth perception is correct. If he can whistle for Epona, maybe she’ll have enough sense to struggle free from her post and come to him. He lifts fingers to his mouth, pitching the air through the gap and blowing as hard as he can - his whistle high and loud. But Epona doesn’t come - he can’t even hear signs of a struggle. He tries again, holding it out longer, and still - silence. 

He pants, fisting his hands in the grass. Epona _always_ comes when called. Link groans, suddenly coming to the realization that Zelda must have ridden her up to the lab. 

“Shit. _Shitshitshit!_ ” He gasps, moaning out in despair. 

He’s dragged himself all the way out here, and now must find a way to get up and get back in - his leg twisted unnaturally behind him and the other knelt on the cold, damp ground. He has nothing to prop himself up - the metal poker flung abandoned across the grass - nothing to drag his body towards the still opened door, and nothing to keep his consciousness from drifting. 

He swallows down a chunk of bile crawling up his throat and sways, his vision blacking out around the edges. 

He _must_ find Zelda. 

There’s a great thudding sound growing louder around his head, and he whimpers in pain at the way it makes his eyes strain. He presses his hands to his ears, falling forward onto his elbows and curling around himself in the grass. The ground is shaking, and dimly he realizes how ironic this all is. 

There is a faint voice, sweet and melodic floating through the bitter bite of the wind.

“ _Link?_ ”

It asks, a barely there caress across his senses. 

“Link?!” 

It demands, growing louder and less ethereal- scraping across his consciousness. 

“LINK!” 

Zelda screams, her hands warm and soft where they wretch his free from over his ears, shattering across his reality. 

_"Thundering, shaking..._ ” He thinks. 

_Epona._

Suddenly his body is being lifted, Zelda’s hands still roving worriedly across his face. He rolls his eyes skywards, briefly catches a glimpse of white hair and red eyes, and immediately sags with relief. 

_Symin._

He’s hefted back inside, Symin taking care to mind his shattered leg. He processes slowly that Purah is also present, trailing behind her assistant with a worried look scrawled across her tiny face. And Zelda, lovely, beautiful Zelda, is crying. 

Link frowns, reaching towards her after Symin has lowered him down onto the bed. She comes to his side instantly, grasping at his offered hand and cradling it close to her face. 

“What in the world were you thinking?!” She sobs, “How did you even get that far!” 

He smiles crookedly, pointing a too heavy limb down the stairs. 

“Flame poker.” He brags, rather proud of his ingenuity. 

Zelda scoffs despite herself, pressing a wet kiss to his knuckles. 

“I’m so, so sorry Link. This is all my fault.” 

He pulls his hand from her grasp, turning his palm to cradle her sodden cheek and using what little energy he has left to shake his head at her. He only hopes she can understand that he doesn’t blame her. 

“Yes, it is.” She resists, tears still heavy on her eyelashes. She sniffles, burrowing her cheek into his hand. 

“Purah and Symin are going to help get you all fixed up, and I’ll be here the whole time.” She coo’s - and Link suddenly realizes that Purah has situated herself at the end of the bed, one tiny leg flung over his broken appendage and her hands grasped tightly around the Sheikah Slate. 

He grunts, slightly worried, and Purah glares at him. 

“You shut it!” She spits, and delves into incoherent mumbling as she begins tapping on the slate with vigor. 

Her expression lights up as she finds what she’s looking for, and before Link has a chance to ask what in Hylia’s name she’s doing she’s throwing out a, “Symin, hold him down” as the slate begins to glow. 

“Wait - Uhf!” He struggles as Symin wraps broad hands around his upper arms, bracketing them against his body with force and refusing to meet his eye. Zelda forces his face back to hers with hands on his cheeks. 

“Link. Just focus on me, Link.” She keeps repeating as Purah begins to guide the slate down and across his leg. A vibrant blue light reaches out, encasing his flesh, and pulses. Link can feel his fractured bones shifting, rubbing against one another as they right themselves and his eyes immediately water. His jaw feels as though it’s about to snap from how hard he’s grinding his teeth together to keep from screaming, sweat breaking out against his brow anew. 

Symin grips his arms tighter, a particularly stubborn crack knitting together under the glowing light, and Links whole body spasms. 

He is absolutely writhing with pain and Zelda chokes back her sob at the sight. She wipes diligently at his brow, taking care to keep the sweat from dripping into his eyes as he moans and thrashes. 

Symin catches her eye, a small but sympathetic twist to his lips, and she tries but fails to muster up a smile in response. 

She feels absolutely horrid, shameful and disgusted with her lack of self control. The possibility of controlling her power had blinded her, and the result had been disastrous. How could she have lived with herself if this accident had been a fatal one? She swallows around the knot in her throat as Link loses the strength to fight back - whimpering softly as the light from the sheikah slate tapers out. 

Purah sighs. “The healing rune has done what it can... his leg should be fixed, mmmmostly.” 

“Mostly??” Zelda shifts, brushing the hair off of Link’s damp forehead as he drifts in and out of consciousness. 

“His bones have fused back together, but there may be some lingering complications.” 

Zelda blinks at her, thanking Symin softly as he moves away from Link’s now prone body and watching quietly as he places an affectionate pat on his head. 

“His leg may never truly be what it once was before... Your Highness. Not without a more pure healing. A _divine_ healing-“ 

“Stop, Purah!” Zelda hisses, her gaze hard. “I will not tempt fate twice in one day... I’ve had quite enough of the Goddess and her gifts.” 

She moves to look upon Link’s face again, smoothed in sleep and damp with sweat. She squeezes her eyes shut, willing with all her might to stop the images of his broken and bloody body from flickering across her eyelids. 

Purah huffs, clearly having given up on persuading Zelda any further on the matter, and taps Symin lightly on the arm in an indication of their departure. Zelda barely hears them as Purah places the slate at the end of the bed, or as they descend the stairs and slide out the door. 

There is only the sound of Link’s gentle breathing and the soft patter of her tears as they fall onto the blanket to carry them through the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A healing rune, you say?? Don’t worry - all shall be explained. Just as a side note, and perhaps as an answer, I do headcanon that Link loses the other Champions powers after the Calamity is defeated. I like to think they were gifts bestowed to him to help in the fight, but once it was over and their spirits finally at peace their gifts were no longer needed. Anyway! Hope you enjoyed!


	13. Hylia's Purpose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!! I am finally here with another update. The Holidays kind of kicked my ass this year, as I'm sure they did to many others. I also posted a short one-shot today, so hopefully that makes up for the wait time for this new chapter (: 
> 
> This is another sad one, but I promise you it won't stay this way! Good times are a comin'. Hang in there!

* * *

The devil makes work for idle hands. Or at least that’s what her castle tutors always told her. So Zelda cleans, and cooks, and then cleans again. She rearranges the five books stacked on the desk in the loft nearly a dozen times, dusts every square inch of the house, and makes enough fruitcake to give a horse a toothache. 

And still, she is idle. Her hands, constantly blazing and vibrating with energy, tremor at every movement. Hylia’s gifts flow through her, begging for release, and so she scrubs harder at the floor with a crease in her brow and a scowl on her lips, and ignores Link’s pitiful stares.  She crawls into bed every night, limbs sore and aching from nonstop use, and lies awake in the dark listening to the sound of Links battered breathing. 

When he wakes each day Zelda helps him dress, a shoulder under his arm and a hand across his chest to support him as he clumsily forces on his trousers. His leg is no longer broken, but it is weak in a way that aggravates him to no end. He curses when his weight leans too heavily to one side and his leg begins to buckle, or when Zelda rushes to his aid to help him up or down the stairs. He thanks her, begrudgingly, for her assistance each time - and Zelda bears her guilt silently. 

The split in his head, having been stitched and bandaged to the best of her ability, is nearly healed completely. The scar is ragged and deep, stretching from his hairline to his brow bone. It’s still an angry dark pink, the contrast stark against his slightly tanned skin. He bears it no mind - what’s one more amongst and array of many? But Zelda memorizes the shape and feeling of it with her fingertips while he sleeps just as she does the starburst scar against his chest. Another failure notched under her belt, she thinks bitterly.

The first time she had almost lost him, The Goddess’ power had saved him. And now - .

She sits across from him at the table, watching silently as he devours a breakfast she knows is not nearly as delicious as he keeps saying it is, and smiles half heartedly when he meets her eye. Her own plate is untouched, just as the day before that, and the day before that. He eyes her plate with barely disguised worry, and she picks up her fork and twirls her eggs around to placate him. When she shoves a small bite into her mouth it turns to sand on her tongue, and she fights back the urge to gag. Link watches her, and she forces herself to swallow. 

He sighs, asks her if she wants to take a walk into town today, and she hums without really listening and keeps her eyes glued to the table.  He says something about the weather, and something vaguely about travel, and Zelda hums again - giving up in her façade of eating and letting her fork fall from her grasp as she clasps her hands tightly in her lap. They’re hot - always hot - the energy sparking at her fingertips, desperate to reach out. She pinches her eyes shut. Idle hands are the devils workshop. 

“Zel?” Link asks, his voice low and still raspy from sleep. 

Another hum. Words do not come easy to her these days. 

“Are you listening?” 

She blinks owlishly at him. 

“Yes.”  It’s a lie. 

Link scoffs lightly, the corner of his mouth lifting as he crosses his arms. 

“Really? What did I say?”

She’s caught then, heat rising against her cheeks, and she looks away from him in shame. He shakes his head shortly, turning sympathetic eyes to her face and stretching a hand out across the table towards her. She doesn’t take it. 

“Zelda. You have to stop this.”  His face is smooth and serious when she moves her gaze lazily to his own. She resents the softness and compassion bubbling beneath his eyes, silently pulling her towards him, and she digs her fingernails into her palms. 

“Stop what?” She remarks lowly, her voice scratchy from disuse. 

Link looks at her as if she’s grown a second head and huffs. 

“Are you kidding? _T_ _his,_ Zelda...” he says as his hand lifts to gesture around where she is seated in front of him. “All of _t_ _his_. You haven’t been yourself for days. You didn’t even want to visit the lab yesterday!” 

She blinks slowly, gaze drawn back down to her lap. She hears Link push a frustrated breath through his teeth. She can tell he is walking the thin line of deciding what to say next, the fingers of his hand extended towards her fidgeting against the table. 

“I know...my recovery hasn’t been easy on you...” he clears his throat, “but... maybe in a weeks time we can travel to Goron City. Yunobo has the same abilities that Daruk had...he would be more than happy to give you some help with-“ 

Zelda cuts him off, the harsh wobble of her voice slicing through his calm demeanor. “I don’t  want help! I don’t  want  anything!” 

She screws her eyes shut as her chest heaves, her breath leaving her in gasps as her hands burn and itch. 

“I don’t want her help ever again...” 

Link leans forward in his chair, bracketing his weight against his forearms. 

“You can’t just shut this out, Zel. This is Hylia we’re talking about...” 

he taps a nervous beat against the wood. 

“You heard what Purah said. You’ve read what the King wrote. If you don’t learn to control this...it could kill you.” 

“Then let it!” She bursts, her voice sharp as daggers. Link reels back as if he’s been slapped, his hands balling into fists. There is a tick in his jaw and Zelda glares at him, ready to defend the force of her words. He says nothing. “I would let Hylia’s power consume me a thousand times over than to ever risk hurting you again. I don’t  care what happens. Let the Goddess take me if she so chooses.” 

Her voice grows small and broken, nearly a whisper by the time she’s done. Her arms are aflame now, the burning slowly creeping its way closer to her heart. She wants to rip the acursed power straight out of her flesh. 

Link’s eyes have turned hard, his mouth set in a tight line. He flexes his fingers and pushes back against the edge of the table, forcing himself up and out of his chair in a jolting movement that causes him to stagger slightly - shifting his weight off of his bum leg. 

“So that’s it then? You’re just giving up?” He says harshly. 

He looks as though he’s about to cry, and Zelda bites the inside of her cheek. 

When she doesn’t respond, her eyes still locked to his face, he scoffs and looks away - teeth worrying at his bottom lip. 

“After everything she put you through... put  us  through!” He suddenly shouts, turning a frantic look on her. 

“You’re just going to let her win?! You’re going to let her keep taking, and taking, and  taking until there’s nothing left!” 

His voice breaks, rasping against his dry throat. Zelda flinches, lips pressed shut against his onslaught. She considers speaking up, but then his gaze turns soft and pleading. 

“Please, Zel. She’s taken enough...” 

She can see the grief flash across his face so quickly, if she had blinked she would have missed it. She struggles to find words, anything to erase the pain etched across his features, but finds the lump stuck in her throat too large to swallow. As the seconds tick by and she still gives him no answer, he grows weary and defeated. She can see the hope drain out of his face in a single moment, and he turns away from the table with a heaving sigh and a hand scrubbed down his face. 

She watches as he limps across the room to the hooks next to the door, pulling his cloak off and around his shoulders. He turns to look at her over his shoulder, the scarred side of his face mocking her. 

“If you don’t want to hurt me... then you’ll fight this...” 

The winter chill rushes through the small house when he slips through the front door, and Zelda bears her guilt silently. 

* * *

An hour ticks by, and Zelda does not worry. He’s been gone longer on trips into town before - so she cleans and cleans and cleans. 

That hour gives way to another, and Zelda does not worry. He often runs into Bolson on his excursions and sometimes barely makes it home for dinner - so she cooks and cooks and cooks.

When the third hour rolls by, Zelda begins to worry. The slate is tucked safely in the desk drawer upstairs, so with little consolation she assures herself he must still be in Hateno. She stacks her notes neatly together off the table, smoothes out the creases in her trousers as calmly as she can, and wraps her own cloak tightly around her body. 

Her boots crunch softly against the light dusting of snow that had fallen in the night, her breath leaving in clouds in front of her face as she rounds the corner of the house towards the stable. She lifts the edge of the winter tarp, pushing her body against the door Link had frantically built a few weeks ago when news of winter weather had come their way. 

Epona snorts happily when Zelda shoves inside, stomping her hooves lightly and shaking her mane. He had gone on foot then. Good. That means he hasn’t gotten far. 

Zelda tuts at the beast and pats her neck and nose with affection, whispering promises of fresh carrots when she returns. She locks the stable door behind her, setting out across the small bridge with determination. She heads directly into the market shoppe when she arrives in town, pushing the door open with more force than is necessary and casting a quick perfunctory glance around the store. He’s isn’t there. She pays for a bundle of carrots and leaves. 

The dye shoppe, inn, boutique, and armory shoppe are all empty. They all bid her a warm welcome and invite her in out of the cold - but her purpose still evades her and so with kind words she declines and hikes her satchel full of carrots higher onto her shoulder as she continues her search. The lab is the only place she hasn’t checked, and by all accounts she has been ready to rule it out all afternoon - considering Link’s very questionable relationship with Purah and the sneaking suspicion that he would rather be anywhere else in Hyrule each and every time she drags him up there. But she’s getting desperate, and town has borne no fruit in her search for him, so she takes a deep and cold breath and begins to trek up the long and winding path to the tech lab. 

It takes her an hour. The snow only growing deeper as she ascends. Her ankles twist uncomfortably in her boots as she lifts and stomps and lifts and stomps through the heavy powder packed tightly against the earth. She raps violently on the door when she finally reaches the top, her nose frozen like an icicle and fingers all but numb. 

He isn’t there. 

_Stay the night! _ Purah pleads, tiny hands pressed into a steeple.  _ I’ll send Symin to wait for Link and let him know. You’re frozen!  _

Her lips are so cold she can hardly move them, but she manages to tell Purah no, that she’ll be fine. And then she is tucking her cloak closer around her body and turning on her heel. Purah nearly chases her out into the cold, and she can hear her small voice wailing for Symin to rush out and convince her as she stumbles and trips her way through the snow and down the path. She waves enthusiastically over her shoulder as she rounds the bend and the lab disappears from sight. 

It takes her significantly less time to come down the hill than it did to go up, and she is slightly sweaty underneath her wool tunic when she gets to the bottom and heads in the direction of the house. She hopes Epona won’t mind slightly frozen carrots. The afternoon has meandered into the early evening, and with one last glance around the center of town and no sight of a matching cloak or sandy blonde hair, she swallows her resolve and sprints the last stretch of distance to the bridge. 

Perhaps he’s already come back, she reasons, and her stomach plummets at the thought of him returning to an empty home and going through this endless cycle of looking for one another. 

She’s breathless by the time she gets to the front door, her frozen fingers fumbling with the latch. She lets out a groan of frustration and steps inside, the warmth of the fire she had stoked before leaving instantly warming her face. It’s quiet, unnaturally so, and she sweeps her eyes across the first floor, up through the loft, and back down to the fire. 

He isn’t here. 

A desperate sound leaves her throat, something akin to a sob. And she lands heavily in the cushioned chair near the fireplace, her cloak still tangled around her neck and shoulders. She’s vibrating with anxiety, and it does nothing to quell her worry when her extremities begin to glow - the Goddess power seeking the flow of her emotion. She curses, pressing the flat of her palms against her eyes and wincing at the light that penetrates through her lids from her hands. She watches the flames instead, chewing absently on a scorching fingertip as she waits and waits and waits. 

The sun has set by the time Link returns, quietly and without fanfare as he stomps the snow out of his boots and peels his cloak off. She stares at him dumbly from her seat in front of the fire, too stunned to move and too relieved for any words to form. He notices the look on her face, sees the worry etched across her brow and flushes, his hand scratching at the back of his head nervously. 

“Sorry I was gone so long.” He says, as if Zelda hasn’t been out of her mind with fear for the last 5 hours. 

He comes to stand before her at the fire, reaching behind him quickly to pull a plush blanket out of a chest and drape it across her lap, kneeling in front of her with warm hands on her thighs ( he  had thought to take gloves) and a small apologetic smile on his face. Zelda finally finds the ability to speak. 

“Where did you go?” She demands, her voice lacking in veracity. “I - I looked for you. Where did you go?” 

He strokes a searing path across her blanketed legs, and she tries so hard not to forgive him so easily. She is the one who started this, after all. 

He sighs. 

“I’m sorry. I was... looking for someone. I needed to send a letter.” 

“And that took...5 hours?” She breathes, stilling his hands with her own. 

He laughs shortly in the back of his throat, refusing to meet her eye. 

“He’s hard to track down. But, it’s taken care of now. Forgive me, for worrying you.” 

There is still a trace of hurt and betrayal behind his features when he looks up at her, the fireplace illuminating the soft blue of his eyes and casting the contours of his face into shadow. 

“Who did you send a letter to?” 

She asks, her curiosity pestering at the forefront of her mind. 

He doesn’t answer, his jaw flexing as he clenches his teeth, and suspicion begins to tingle in Zelda’s veins. 

“Who, Link?” she repeats, and his eyes flick from her face to the flames. He stands abruptly, shifting his balance, and leans against the mantle as he stares into the fire. 

“I wrote to Impa.” He deflates, guilt washing over his words like a wave. “I didn’t know what else to do.” 

“You - you  _tattled _ on me?!” Zelda sneers, disbelief marring her tone. 

He rounds on her, the fury she had witnessed earlier back in his eyes. 

“I had no other choice! My opinions clearly don’t matter, maybe  hers will!” 

Her lip trembles, and the fight drains from his face. He stumbles to his knees in front of her again, his hands reaching for her arms. She watches as he traces reverent patterns across her forearms, the soft glow of her skin buzzing underneath his fingertips. 

“I thought maybe...if I couldn’t convince you, _s_ _he_ could.” 

She snatches her arms away, folding in on herself and digging painful crevices into her skin with her fingernails. Hurt glimmers in his eyes at her recoil from his touch.

“So now I must be subject to being berated for decisions regarding  _my own _ life?! Forced into another destiny I do not want, against my own will?!” She seethes, teeth bared in his direction. 

Link’s nostrils flare, flames reflecting in his eyes. Despite the angered flash across his face, his voice is calm.

“Hylia  _has _ a purpose, Zelda-“ 

“Yes, so you keep saying. And yet, the only purpose I can gather is to cause more grief and suffering than she has already laid upon us!” 

There is a deathly silence as she struggles to catch her breath. His fists are clenched on her knees, his knuckles white. Zelda maintains eye contact, afraid that if she backs down now - it will have all been in vain. She braces herself for a hearty retaliation, tracking the way Link’s hard breathing causes his chest to heave and expand. To her surprise, he turns his frustrated glare to the fire and stands up and away from her. She misses the heat of his palms against her legs almost instantly, cursing against her failing resolve. 

He closes his eyes against the heat and swallows. 

“I never wanted any of this either, Zelda.” 

He whispers, the crackling of the fire nearly drowning out his speech. 

“I didn’t _choose_ to be Hylia’s champion. I never expected to die at the hands of Demise for the sake of Hyrule. I didn’t _wish_ to be the bearer of the Master Sword.” His voice falters, the anguish in his tone breaking Zelda’s heart bit by bit. 

“If you had asked me back then, when I was just another Knight in the Royal Guard, if I believed in destiny... I would have said no.” 

The fire pops and flares, and he takes a stuttering gasp of air. 

“But then I pulled the sword... and everything changed.  Everything.  I wasn’t just a Knight anymore I was the bearer of the sword that seals the darkness!” 

His voice grows grandiose and mocking as he sweeps a theatrical arm through the air, scoffing a laugh. 

“All of a sudden I was supposed to be this glimmering hero, chosen by the Goddess and blessed with the triforce of courage. I was treated differently, after that. But I was... I was still just _me_ .” His boot scuffs against the floor, and he paces in a short circle before huffing in frustration and running a hand through his hair. He winces as he bends to sit on the floor, legs up near his chest and his arms crossed across his knees. 

“I didn’t want to believe in whatever greater purpose was laid out before me. I denied it - for a long time. I just wanted things to go back to the way they were...” 

His eyes meet hers again, wet with unshed tears. 

“But then I met you. And the sword _sang_ . And I just knew then, like some sort of instinct, that I was destined for this. I couldn’t deny that anymore.” 

“This is different...” Zelda stutters, A knot in her stomach. “You had a duty. You swore an oath to protect Hyrule-“ 

Link sneers. “No, I swore an oath to protect _you_! ” He sighs then, the shake of his head slow and deliberate as he stretches his limbs and slowly stands from the floor. He doesn’t look at her as he limps towards the door, tracing the embroidery of his cloak before lifting it off the hook once more. 

“These people don’t know it yet...but their Princess has returned. Don’t tell me this is different when your people need you -  _ I  _ _need you_...” He says as he worries the fabric between his fingers. His eyes are soft when he dares to look her way, and Zelda almost moves to stand up when he situates his cloak around his shoulders. 

She finds herself rooted to her spot, throat closed up in sorrow and defeat. 

“I’ll be at the inn...” He whispers, a slight challenge in his voice. She does not argue, and with a heavy heart, watches as his flame bathed silhouette slips out the door. 

The silence is deafening, and she stares at the flickering light against the wood. 

She doesn’t know how long she sits there, but by the time she drags herself out of her chair the fire has long since died and the chill of the night has penetrated the house. She wraps the blanket on her lap across her arms and slouches up the stairs, slinking into their shared bed. 

She doesn’t bother undressing, and when her head hits the pillow her tears come never ending. She cries in hiccups, tears staining the sheets and leaving hot tracks across her face. She cries until her cheeks are hot and her head aches, and only then does Hylia grant her the peace of sleep.


End file.
